#you can find it free in a few places it isn’t hard

[bones-and-whatnot]

Maybe The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) is my new favorite film ever of all time ever ever.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[luveline]

more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!

you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k

Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 

You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 

“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 

You step over it and almost slip. 

“Careful,” someone says. 

You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 

Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 

“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 

“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 

“Let me help you with this.” 

Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 

“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 

“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 

“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 

You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 

He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 

“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 

“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 

You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 

“Oh, sure. Of course.” 

“You haven’t heard it yet.” 

You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 

“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 

You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 

You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 

“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 

His voice is velveteen. 

“Is that awful?” you ask.

“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 

“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 

He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Can I pay you back?” 

You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 

Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 

“How would you do that?” you ask. 

“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 

A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 

“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 

He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 

[star-girl69]

After Midnight

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: flirting with the star hockey player at the frat party isn’t what you would normally do, but it’s after midnight and something about the lights is making everything a little hazy.

feel free to send requests!!! 🫶🫶

a/n: GUYS PLEASE. PLEASE IGNORE THIS. i’m sorry i’ve betrayed all my morals… but i cant sit idly by while my fellow kk lovers suffer… i hope you all enjoy!!

After Midnight - Chappell Roan

warnings: not proofread!!!, ALCOHOL!!! we are in a FRAT people!!, some swearing ofc, super brief barely there mentions of violence and such, kk is taller than reader by like an inch suck it idc i do what i want, super brief mention of y/n having hair (length unspecified), idk like a bit of kissing and some somewhat suggestive thoughts… y/n is a freak 💔, i’ve never flirted with anyone before how do you do this, so probs inaccurate, i don’t know anything about hockey just prefacing this, i also don’t know how college works rip, as chappell roan said: “i love a little drama, let’s start a bar fight, cause everything good happens after midnight”

—-

“Shit, babe, you look fuckin’ hot.”

This entire night is almost painful for you. Stepping out of your comfort zone on any level is always an adjustment, but trading your early nights in with homework and Netflix for a sexy dress showing everything in all the right and wrong places- is especially hard.

You almost cringe touching the velvet fabric of your revealing dark red shirt, staring at someone in the mirror you don’t even recognize.

“Jackie,” you mumble to your best friend and roommate, “I think it’s.. too much.”

Jackie tilts her head to the side, short dirty blonde hair swaying with the movement. She’s only humoring you, you can tell. “Nope. Perfect.”

You look at the pictures stuck in the slats of the mirror. Pictures of you, Jackie, and the other girl in your trio, Tyla, faces pressed together in bright smiles from various adventures from your freshman year at college.

It was such a relief when Jackie was the sweetest girl and an amazing person to share a dorm with, but when she brought along her best friend Tyla from a few doors down- the three of you fell into a quick and beautiful friendship, like the ones in the movies.

Jackie and Tyla were definitely more on the party girl side than the study girl side, but that was what was so great about your friendship. You reminded them that they did in fact have homework, and they pushed you to do things like this every once in a while.

This was the first time you had ever suggested it. Midterms were over- it would be wrong to not celebrate. To breathe in the few seconds you had left as a freshman, before it all got turned up again for sophomore year.

“Okay,” Jackie breathes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Take a deep breath, babe. The fit is a lot, yes, but it’s gorgeous. I mean, damn, where have you been hiding that ass?”

You bite your lip, eyes tearing away from the pictures, meeting Jackie’s eyes in the reflection.

“My ass does look really good,” you concede.

“Hell yeah it does!” Jackie shouts, smiling brightly. “Don’t be nervous, okay? It’s just some random frat party. We can go sit outside if it gets too much.”

It’s break. It’s Friday night. You look good, however uncomfortable you are.

“Fuck,” you mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m just gonna do a few shots when we get there.”

“That’s my girl.”

Jackie thinks for a moment. “Besides, I think it’s a party to celebrate the girls hockey team winning a game, or something like that. The attention is gonna be far away from you. But…”

She trails off, picking at a piece of thread hanging from her comforter.

“What?” You ask, heart jumping to your throat in fear.

“Dylan might be there,” she shrugs.

Ugh.

Dylan.

Dylan wasn’t even that big of a problem, just a boy you had overzealously dated right when you got to college, when you were adjusting and still kind of lonely, only to find out his obsessive, stalker-ish personality was literal hell to be in a relationship with.

After maybe a week of constant love-bombing and clinginess, you broke up with him- and he tried for literal months to get your attention before he finally seemed to give up.

Once in a while, you’d see him at these parties, and he’d stare at you in a way that was probably supposed to be sexy, but was only weird and uncomfortable.

“Who gives a fuck about him?” You ask, your own surprise reflected in Jackie’s face.

“Damn, girl. Yeah, you’re fuckin’ right. Who gives a fuck about his sad ass?”

“I don’t,” you scoff, refusing to let him ruin your night.

The bathroom door slams open suddenly, revealing Tyla in an even more revealing black dress. Skin tight with cut outs showing her dark skin.

“Jesus Christ, I pity the other girls at that bar.” Tyla runs her hands down her sides, smiling brightly in a way that can only be joking.

And you laugh, and you laugh when she softly bumps you away from the mirror and admires herself even more.

—-

Because of this rash decision to go out, Tyla hadn’t done her usual shopping for the pregame so you were forced to go to the party early- which Tyla actually groaned at and complained about how “embarrassing” it was. But after a few shots, that embarrassment fell away and she was back to being the funny, confident girl you knew her as.

You talked amongst the three of you, and with the two boys who were acting as bartenders, until more and more people slowly started filing in and the sky got dark. It was probably close to 10pm by the time the party really got busy, and those first two hours faded into a montage of alcohol stinging your throat and the sounds of your best friends laughing.

When the hockey team finally arrived, you were sitting on a couch with your girls, Tyla talking in this played-up sensual voice to a random boy who had taken an interest in her, while you and Jackie were busy scouting out the new arrivals and the different kinds of alcohol they placed on the table.

Even if Jackie hadn’t off-handedly mentioned it earlier, you quickly would have found out who this party was for. A large group of girls walked into the party, immediately met with cheers and shots, swarmed with alcohol and congratulations.

Some guy, probably one who actually lived in this house, whipped out a shitty megaphone and shouted their arrival, but it wasn’t even that loud.

Even you, however studious you were, knew about the girl’s hockey team. A bunch of them had played on the Olympic team a few years ago, and all the students of this D1 school were generally pretty proud that the Wisconsin team had won the most national championships.

Most of them were wearing their jerseys, but a few had dressed up. The girl’s hockey team was probably the hottest, most talented group of girls to ever be within 100 feet of you.

It was almost unfair how all of them were so beautiful and so talented, but you suppose that the rigorous workout schedules of Olympic and national athletes didn’t leave a lot of room for anything other than a fuck ton of muscles.

God, half of them towered over you and all of them could probably break your wrist with just a flick.

It was impressive.

What was most impressive, though, is the way the infamous Caroline Harvey walked in carrying about 27 cases of beer, which must have weighed as much as this fucking house, and effortlessly set it all on the ground beside the table full of red solo cups, chasers, and bottles of vodka.

Cheers rang out and people scrambled towards it, ripping the cardboard boxes open greedily and opening them just as fast.

You watched, hiding your parted mouth with your hand, as Caroline accepted an open beer from someone, cheers with a few of her teammates and drank a long sip. When she was done, she laughed and lifted her shirt to her mouth to wipe off some stray liquid, a movement that let just a sliver of her toned abs peek through.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, quickly looking to the floor and deciding hockey was your new favorite sport.

You knew her from around campus, you both liked to study in the library at the same time- around 3 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it became kind of tradition to just stare at her for a few minutes in between sections of your work. Almost like some weird little reward. You did feel kind of bad about it, but fuck, there was no way you could stop.

Besides, it’s not like she noticed.

You always sat on opposite sides of the library, and she never once even looked in your direction. What Caroline didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and you never see her unless it’s at the library or in passing at parties. But, God, doesn’t it feel good to just relish in how beautiful she is and stare for just a bit.

“Y/N, babe.”

Jackie knocked herself into you, her knees tucked up to her chest, some sort of a smile on her face.

“What’cha doin’?” She asks, smiling in a way that can only be described as evil. “Starin’? Hockey player pique your interest, huh?”

“No,” you say, forcing a laugh into your voice and rolling your eyes. “Just lookin’ at all the commotion.”

You’re trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but now that Jackie’s mentioned it- those abs did pique your interest. And now they came flashing behind your eyes every time you blink.

“Oh, my God, I think I’m in heat,” you mumble, slightly to yourself and slightly to Jackie.

She wraps a lazy arm around your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “Oh, sweet girl, don’t worry. I’ve got you. Which one is it?”

“Caroline,” you mumble, so quiet and so sudden before you can really think about it.

Jackie hums, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t know a whole lot about her, but I heard she had a girlfriend freshman year, so definitely into girls. Not dating anyone right now, though. Olympian, hockey player, all that sexy stuff.”

“Mhmmmmm,” you mumble, sneaking a quick glance and then looking away immediately when she takes another sip of her drink, not wanting to know what would happen if you caught another glimpse of those god-sent abs.

“You gonna do somethin’ about it?” Jackie asks, nudging your head with hers.

“No, no,” you dismiss. “Just… being a freak. Admiring. God, I’m pathetic.”

Jackie laughs, abruptly standing and pulling you to your feet too. “Come on, babe, time for more drinks, let’s get your mind off of this if you’re not gonna make a move.”

You roll your eyes but follow her to the table of drinks farthest away from Caroline and the other hockey players. You’re not going to do anything, it’s not like you have a chance, and you’re just bored without schoolwork to occupy your every thought.

You take a deep breath, standing next to Jackie and surveying your options. Jackie choses for the both of you, definitely the more experienced party girl, mixing a drink that is majority vodka, making you groan slightly just at the thought of it.

“Here you go!” Jackie smiles, placing the red solo cup into your hand, smiling like she’s not trying to give you alcohol poisoning. Her gaze fixes on something behind you, and you faintly register the way her eyes light up- already a little tipsy from the few shots you’ve done- but you can’t even be bothered to question why.

You eye your drink suspiciously, mentally preparing yourself for the taste.

“Whoops,” Jackie mutters, and you look up at her only to feel her push you back.

“Jackie-” you start, angry, and she quickly scurries away from you. You want to kill her a little bit, at least question her- but you don’t get the chance to.

You gasp as you slam into someone behind you, drink splashing all over your front, alcohol mixing with the rich velvet texture of your shirt in a way that might very well ruin it. You bite your lip, glancing around the room, grateful that the room is so crowded and busy that no one noticed.

“Damn Harvey, knockin’ girls over on and off the ice,” someone laughs. You think you hear the sound of someone lightly hitting another person, followed by a small “ow.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

You turn around, Jackie nowhere to be found, and completely freeze when you realize not only did the person you slammed into have enough decency to ask if you were okay, but that person was fucking Caroline Harvey.

You would have laughed at how cliche it was if you weren’t so secretly exhilarated. The only reason you even had this drink was to stop shamefully staring at her.

But she’s right in front of you… and she looks even better like this, cheeks slightly flushed already from the alcohol, a glint in her eyes.

Her eyes meet yours, staring at you in obvious confusion and concern- “Hey? You okay?”

She places her hand on your waist and you suddenly return back into your body, looking anywhere but her eyes that were literally fucking drowning you.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp. “I-I’m fine. I’m just, like, really drunk.” You laugh, awkwardly, trying to pretend that you’re talking to just anyone. Trying to pretend like her hand on your waist wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

She smiles, Jesus Christ that fucking smile, your knees go a little weak.

“Oh, good. Would be a shame if that pretty head got a concussion.”

You laugh, staring at her smile. Intoxicating. It’s the only word that comes to mind- maybe enchanted. She’s like some drug, and, God, it’s so stupid but you think you might be addicted after hearing her voice just once.

And, the suddenly, so vividly you almost fall over again, you realize what she said to you.

“Here, let me help you,” she says, effortlessly taking the now pretty much empty red solo cup from you and placing it on the table behind you, wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to what you assume is a bathroom, probably where she was originally going. “I’m Caroline, but you can call me KK.”

Your mouth is slightly agape as she leads you through the crowd, and you suddenly pass by Jackie who gives you a big smile and a thumbs up- disappearing into the crowd before you can curse her name.

Fuck it. She’s right in front of you. The alcohol is getting to your head, the dim lighting is making everything hazy- everything except her pretty blue eyes and her intoxicating smile.

“KK,” you say, testing the nickname. “That’s cute. I’m Y/N.”

“That’s cute,” she echoes, and the way you can hear the smile on her voice seriously makes you almost fall over.

Thankfully, the bathroom she leads you to is kind of out of the way, it’s completely empty and the door clicks behind the two of you.

Your mood immediately deflates when you see yourself in the mirror, your top noticeably darker where sticky alcohol has sunk into the fabric.

“Fuck,” you mumble, peeling the sticky fabric from your skin.

Before you can even think to do anything, Caroline- KK- is running a random hand towel under the sink and gesturing to you. You expect her to hand it to you- but she doesn’t.

“Okay if I touch you?”

God in Heaven.

“Y-yeah,” you choke out, feeling your world literally recalibrate when she puts her hand on your shoulder- so fucking close to your neck- to keep you steady. You always thought it was the stereotype that basketball players have big hands, but apparently hockey players do too.

Her hand is really warm. This bathroom is suddenly really warm. Your cheeks are heating up, and as much as you try to tell yourself it’s from the alcohol- you know it’s not.

“Sorry,” she mumbles after a few more seconds. “I don’t think this is gonna do much. Maybe try putting it in the wash, though.”

You sigh, now turned sideways, hip to the bathroom sink, looking at yourself out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine, my friend… bumped into me, and then I backed up straight into you. Not your fault.”

You look up at her, realizing at this close proximity that she’s taller than you, maybe only an inch.

“I might just go home,” you sigh, feeling kind of disgusting in this nasty shirt.

A frown immediately forms on her face.

“Party’s just started, though. Can’t go home yet, baby.”

She wants you to die. She literally wants you to die. She’s secretly an assassin, and you’ve blocked out the memory of some horrible crime you’ve committed, and now she’s here to kill you by calling you baby and having the sexiest abs you’ve ever seen.

Not a bad way to go, though.

“Here,” she says, reaching up and tugging her jersey over her head, again revealing those fucking abs, and she’s left in a black tank top you didn’t even notice the first time you were staring at her abs. “Take my jersey.”

“Oh, no. I can’t, KK. I mean…”

“I was getting hot anyways, it’s good. Take it.”

It’s nicer quality than any other jersey you’ve ever touched before- nicer than the obligatory Wisconsin sweatshirt you bought at the school store.

You cough, taking it with a hand that shakes slightly, not able to look at her.

“…Thank you,” you say after a moment.

She smiles, big and goofy. “It’s no problem. Maybe you can repay me by having a drink with me, though?”

You pretend to think about it, but really you have to knock your knees together so you don’t fall to the floor in excitement.

“That’s a pretty good price.”

You finally meet her eyes, holding your breath as she stares into your eyes like they’re a lifeline.

“Yeah, a drink with my sexy self- pretty good fuckin’ deal.”

You laugh, and she takes a step back, looking you up and down in a way that literally gives you butterflies-

“I’ll let you change,” she says. “Come find me when you’re done, yeah, baby?”

“I’ll find you,” you breathe, turning around to start slipping off your shirt so she doesn’t see the way you literally bite your lip.

The jersey is huge, since they have to be to cover all the padding and gear hockey players wear, and you’re almost worried that you’d look really stupid in it- but your jean bottoms pull it together, somehow.

It smells good. It smells dark, like a forest, still with a hint of something fresh and light. Is this her perfume? You might want to bathe in it.

You still look pretty good, and your mind races, wondering if KK would compliment you in it- but someone bangs on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?!” Jackie. “Y/N? Holy fucking shit- did I just see what I think I saw?!”

Tyla quickly shouts too. “I got dragged away from a really hot guy for this!! Please tell me it’s true!!!”

You open the door wordlessly, holding your hands out wide so Jackie and Tyla can see the the jersey, the Badgers emblem.

“Ladies, hold your applause.”

“What the fuck!” Tyla screams, forcing you to turn around, then tracing a finger along your back, no doubt where Caroline’s last name is printed on. “Harvey. Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“God, she’s so hot,” Jackie groans, and you whip around to shoot her a glare. “Calm down, jealous bitch, I mean this is hot. Fuck, does she have any friends? This red is a good color on me…”

“Well,” you smile, mirroring Jackie’s own “evil” smile from earlier, “She said to come find her and get a drink. With her.”

“A drink…” Tyla breathes. “With… fucking Caroline Harvey?”

“Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“I think I might faint from, like, secondhand hotness.”

“Well,” Jackie starts, looking away from the jersey in awe and back at your face, “You look hot. Go over there right now, get that girl, and make out. Just- right on the couch. Fuck right on the couch.”

“I second that,” Tyla smiles, adjusting the jersey slightly. “Fuck her.”

“Okay, shut up, thanks. We’ll see where the night goes.”

“Oh, my God, I can’t even believe you’re doing this. What happened to my little studious best friend?”

“Alcohol,” you shrug, momentarily wondering if you would regret all of this the next morning- but everything is just so goddamn hazy in this frat house, and you can’t think straight, can’t think about anything other than her.

“Okay, okay,” Tyla says, grabbing your shoulders and staring into your eyes like she’s about to gift you with the greatest wisdom. “You want her to come back?”

You inhale sharply. “Maybe.”

“Okay, well, if this goes good- you gotta leave her before midnight.” She glances at her watch, “It’s 11:06 right now, flirt her and romance her, all that, but leave before midnight, got it?”

“Um… why, though?”

“To keep her guessing, to keep her thinking about you, obviously,” Tyla rolls her eyes. “Trust me girl. We’ll meet you outside at 12 and then take an Uber back, right?”

“Right,” you and Jackie both repeat.

“If you really want her, before midnight, okay?”

“Okay, okay, Tyla. I’ll meet you guys then?”

Jackie pretends to wipe a few tears away. “My girl’s all grown up.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hugging both of them quickly before disappearing into the crowd of people.

—-

You make your way towards a big couch, some armchairs, and a coffee table filled with liquor.

KK’s eyes light up when she sees you, and you notice there’s a conveniently placed empty seat right next to her, and two cups in her hands.

You don’t think anyone has noticed you wearing her jersey yet, and if someone has commented on KK’s lack of jersey, you can’t tell. You smooth it down, take a deep breath and plaster a smile on your face.

A seductive one, you hope, one like Tyla would do. And with the way she mirrors your smile with her own- except this one is just as big and goofy- you think it’s working.

“Y/N?”

Someone walks past you, then immediately stops and steps back, looking right at you.

“Yeah-?”

Oh.

“Hi, Dylan,” you mutter, smile falling from your face immediately.

“Y/N. I haven’t seen you in… forever, it feels like. How’ya been?”

“I’m fine, Dylan. I’m sorry, I’m meeting somebody, okay?” His face falls, and you feel sort of bad, so you add on “Talk soon,” to make yourself feel better.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing your arm, eyes moving from yours down to your outfit. “The fuck are you wearing? A jersey?”

“…Yes,” you say after a moment, genuinely confused until you remember how much Dylan despises sports, thinks they’re all just some popularity contest. “Okay, I’m meeting someone. Bye, Dylan.”

“Hi,” a new voice says, and you smile just a bit when you realize it’s Caroline. “I’m Caroline,” she says, ever-so politely, and it kinda makes your stomach twist. “Are you a friend of Y/N’s?”

Dylan’s eyes narrow at her. “No, I’m her ex.”

“Oh, my God,” you mumble to yourself, stepping close to Caroline. “Shut up.”

KK shoots you a look, and you can’t help but avoid your eyes. You tug your arm away from Dylan, but he doesn’t budge.

“Dylan, please,” you sigh. “I have to go, okay? Let go.”

“No, Y/N, come on-”

“Uh, I think she said let go, buddy.” She still has that same smile on her face, but your eyes flick to her exposed arms, now noticing just how much muscle is there too. There’s this glint to her smile, this edge to her voice, and you would genuinely be kinda scared if it was directed at you.

“This doesn’t involve you,” Dylan huffs. “Y/N and I need to talk- why the fuck are you going around trying to purposefully piss me off? You know I hate sports.”

“Dylan,” you start, genuinely having to take a deep breath. “We dated for a week in freshman year. Let go of me, stop embarrassing yourself, and stop talking to us.”

He stares at you, before scoffing and letting your arm drop. “You’re such a fucking bitch.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Thank you, Dylan, goodbye.” You turn around, wondering if KK is even going to be there anymore. “I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is his problem?” She says, and you genuinely smile at the pure disgust on her face. “Seriously- what?”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle. “It’s just… you’re so, disgusted by him.”

“You aren’t?”

“Well, yeah. But I know him.”

“And I’m sorry for that. I met him once and I never want to meet him again. Weird fucking bitch.”

You laugh again, linking your arm through hers without thinking. “Thanks for trying to defend me, though. I’m sorry- he’s just… an annoying bug that won’t go away, normally he doesn’t talk to me- but I guess he was bored tonight.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry, I think we lost the seats I saved.”

You look towards the couch, now completely filled with hockey players. “It’s okay,” you hum. “We can find somewhere else. Wanna go outside?”

—-

With the hum of the party behind you, and the stream of people walking out and walking in, the little bench on the corner of the porch was shrouded in darkness, and you felt like you were just in your own little corner with KK.

You sipped on the drink she had gotten you, exchanging basic information like what majors you were taking, how many siblings you had, and al that boring stuff before she finally stopped talking and just looked at you for a moment.

“What?” you asked, wiping some of your sip from around your lips.

She smiles. “Nothing. My jersey just looks nice on you.”

“Oh,” you say, stupidly. “Really? I was worried it didn’t get the same vibe as my original fit.”

“No, I would say you look even better.”

You smile, taking another sip for confidence before you place your hand on her arm. “So, tell me about hockey. Maybe workout routines?”

She laughs. “Workout routines?”

You softly squeeze her bicep. “Well, you don’t get these by just sitting around, do you?”

She takes a sip of her drink, trying to slyly cover her face, and you smile even wider.

“No, you don’t.” When she looks back at you, there’s the faintest hint of something on her cheeks, you don’t move your hand, sinking back into that addiction of making her blush. “Mostly lifting weights, cardio, boring things.”

“M’kay, what about actual hockey? I heard you were an Olympian, right?”

She flexes her other arm, and you can see a tattoo made up of the Olympics logo, intertwining rings, on her inner bicep.

“I’m defense, number 4, and I’m basically the star of the team.”

“Really?” You laugh, pressing your thigh against hers. “Would your other teammates agree with that?”

“Ehhh, maybe don’t ask them so you stay all impressed.”

You smile, and suddenly you realize you’ve been smiling all night ever since you started talking to her. And it feels so good to smile with her, it feels so good to be all giddy, and even when Dylan was bothering you it felt good knowing she was right behind you. And it felt even better when you turned around and she was still behind you.

“Can I have your number?” You blurt out.

“Course, baby.”

You hand her your phone, feeling like a damn middle schooler with a raging crush, and she hands you hers.

You make your contact name Jersey Stealer and she laughs when she sees it, and that sound might be your favorite thing about her- second only to her abs.

You can feel the night coming to the end, but it’s a good end, a comfortable one, and there’s definitely doors unopened and words unsaid. It feels like a really sweet beginning to something really beautiful.

You check your phone, smiling at the contact name of Hockey Star and seeing the time is 11:58.

“My friends are waiting for me,” you say, almost with a grimace. The night is coming to an end but you still don’t want it to end. And like clockwork, you watch as Jackie and Tyla walk out of the party arm in arm- sneaking subtle glances all the way to the end of the driveway, eventually disappearing out of sight behind a tree.

“Oh,” she says. “No problem.”

She sounds disappointed. It makes your stomach twist yet again, to know she doesn’t want this to end as much as you do.

You both stand up and walk to the edge of the porch, down the steps and onto the concrete walkway to the driveway. Somewhere along the way, your hand had slipped into yours.

You stop where concrete meets driveway, turning around to face her. She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of her skin on yours. It feels like an electric rush, like an addictive high.

“I’m really glad I give you a concussion.”

You laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t either.”

She looks from your lips back to your eyes, and you’re suddenly reminded that, yes, kissing exists- and you suddenly want to kiss her. Badly.

Fuck.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you go.”

You softly place your hand on her face. You lean forward, placing your lips in a grey area between her cheek and her lips.

“Goodnight, Caroline,” you whisper, an inch away from her skin.

Suddenly she surges forward, lips fully pressing against yours, hand on your waist, and God does the feeling of her lips on yours feel so good, so right.

Oh, God. She’s succeeded in killing you, you think to yourself- everything fading out for a moment before it all comes rushing back in. The sounds of the party, the chill of the nighttime air, and the sweet sweet feeling of Caroline’s lips on yours.

You don’t think your lips will ever recover from this feeling, from the weight of her lips on yours- you’ll always be chasing this feeling, this moment.

Tyla’s words flash in your mind. You revel in this moment for a heartbeat longer until, just as quick as she kissed you, you pull back.

“Didn’t know you were the type to kiss girls on the first date, Harvey. How scandalous.”

She seems disappointed you pulled away. You can see it in her pretty blue eyes- it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world.

“Are you really just any girl?”

“Nope,” you smile, silently thanking Tyla and every star in the sky- you can see it in her eyes, the way she wants to kiss you senseless, and if the game didn’t feel so good you would have let her.

And the way she’s looking at you, slightly blown away, completely in awe, lips parted but curling into a smile- it gives you an addictive rush.

“Text me when you want your jersey back.”

You take a step back, softly prying her hand off of your waist, but holding onto it for a moment.

“Oh, no, you can wear that to my next game.”

“Really?” You smile, fingertips grazing the back of her knuckles as she tries to hold onto you, but you eventually let go. “You’ll save me a good seat?”

“The best seat,” she corrects. “For the best girl.”

This time, you don’t bother to try and hide the way she makes you feel. You clench your thighs together and let your tongue dart out to slightly lick your lips.

“I’ll be there. You better win, though.” You turn around, then look over your shoulder to see her eyes fall down to your ass.

“With a pretty good luck charm like you? I’ll probably score the winning goal.”

“Bye, Caroline,” you say over your shoulder, smiling so brightly you’re sure you look all lovesick. You can’t care, it’s just how you feel for her. Maybe you should be embarrassed, the way she makes you feel kinda like silly putty in her hands, but it feels so good. So right.

“Bye, Y/N.” Her voice is breathy.

And when you check your phone, you see it’s after midnight. So much for Tyla’s advice.

But, you think to yourself, shoes clicking on concrete and KK’s gaze on your back, you kissed her after midnight- maybe all the good things just happen after midnight.

—-

laila when kk hit her for saying the taking girls down on and off the ice thing: 😞😞😞💔💔💔💔💔

y/n also being happy that she left kk AFTER midnight bc she doesn’t just want her she actually likes her

jackie and tyla wingwoman supremes i love them sm

dylan you are annoying i wish you suffering

[natalievoncatte]

Lena didn’t have time for traffic. She looked up from her phone and glared at the back of her driver’s head.

“Frank, why is it taking so long?”

“I’m not Frank, Ma’am. He called out this morning.”

Lena sighed. “And your name?”

“Vincent, ma’am.”

“Vincent, why is this taking so long?”

He signed. “Traffic, ma’am. Sounds like there’s a few blocks downtown closed. Supergirl is fighting some monster or alien or something.”

Lena stopped herself from smiling softly. “Ah, well then. Anyway, might as well see if you can find us a way around. I just don’t like to stand still.”

The driver nodded.

“What do you think about Supergirl, ma’am?”

Lena sighed. “Forgive me, Vincent, but I do have some work to concentrate on, here. I’m not usually one for chitchat. I hope you don’t mind.”

She sank back into her seat and flicked to the next email. There were a lot of fires to put out. Upcoming product launches, grant applications, university partnerships, charity events, plus her own work. She was becoming so strained lately that she was seriously considering stepping down from the direct CEO role so she could spend more time in the lab, where her real passion was.

Sometimes she almost sympathized with Lex; the life of a CEO could easily drive someone insane. Lena would rather spend her days in a labcoat or doing charity work than listening to another entitled silver spoon-

“You’re going the wrong way,” Lena said, sharply.

“I’m finding a way around,” said the driver. “You know, you never answered my question, before. What do you think of Supergirl?”

Lena stuffed her phone in her pocket and thrust her hand in her jacket, freeing the concealed revolver she carried in a shoulder holster under her left arm. The partition was already going up, sealing her in.

“What are you doing?”

“Answer my question,” the driver said, through a speaker.

Lena swallowed hard. “I think she’s a hero but I don’t fully trust her. I work with her when I feel it will help people. That’s all.”

“That’s not what your mother thinks.”

“Isn’t it?” said Lena. “What does she think?”

“Are you fucking her?”

Lena barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s her question?”

“Are you fucking her like you debased yourself with that little tart in boarding school?”

There was silent beat.

“She told me to say that. She made me practice saying ‘tart’.”

He sounded almost bored.

“Fuck you,” Lena snapped. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it.”

“Nothing personal,” said the driver.

Lena sighed, almost annoyed at the hiss as a thin, chemical smelling gas hissed into the car, rising around her. She forced herself to stay calm, stoic, even her pulse raced.

“I’m not afraid of you, or her,” said Lena.

She coughed twice as the world irises shut around her, dragging her down into a cold, dreamless sleep.

When she snapped awake, she was alone. The partition was open, but the gun was gone from her holster. She felt around for it, then decided to clamber into the front seat, rolling over the seats facing her. The driver was gone, of course. Heavy chains were padlocked around the car, pinning the front doors shut.

There was a tape recorder sitting on the front seat. Lena ignored it as she looked around. The car was surrounded by metal walls, and a creep sense of dread rose up Lena’s spine. She fought the panic down, dropping into the driver’s seat.

Placing the tape deck on the dash, she pushed the okay button.

“Hello, Lena,” Lilian said, in her smooth, posh tones. Lena could hear that smarmy smirk forming around her words.

“You’re probably expecting an ultimatum or an offer. There will be none. I’m through trying to bring my husband’s wayward bastard back into the fold. When you betrayed Lex again, you burned your last chance. It’s time to take out the trash, Lena. I wish I could have throttled you in the cradle, but I didn’t know about you and your mother until it was too late. It’s time to correct that. It’s too bad we won’t be there to watch.”

Watch what?

Lena sat and waited. Whoever was sent to murder her had no sense of dramatic timing. She began rifling through the car, trying to take stock of what she had, what she could use to effect an escape. Breaking the-

A sharp shriek of metal cut through her thoughts. The side walls inched forward with a screech of metal, and Lena froze, terror piercing through her like an icy spike.

Oh.

Oh God.

The walls moved slightly more, and the rear view mirrors on both sides of the car exploded. The mechanism pushing the walls strained and groaned, and that was the only mercy she had.

She was in a car crusher. In the car.

The armored structure of her town car was too heavy for the machine to simply crush, but she had minutes at most. Metal groaned in protest, shrieking around her, and the glass quivered in the doors.

Oh God. Oh God.

She wasn’t going to panic. She wasn’t going to panic. She ripped open every single compartment and cubby she could find, but found only monogrammed glassware and a bottle of champagne. There was nothing.

A random, forgotten Lexosuit would be really useful right about now.

With a sudden shriek, the car began to collapse. The bulletproof glass buckled and shattered, pelting the front seat as she rolled into the back, and the doors buckled in, tearing loose from their hinges as the floor and roof began to fold.

A sudden, ringing, frankly stupid thought came into her head, but it was her best play.

Lena Luthor filled her lungs. She took in the biggest, deepest breath of her life, a breath worthy of a championship deep diver, and screamed at the top of her lungs, until it hurt.

“SUPERGIRL!”

She had to scramble into the back seat as the engine began pushing through the dashboard, ripping apart plastic and leather, splintering buried wood. Lena ducked as the roof crumpled and dove in, like the roof of a dragon’s mouth crushing down to pulp her. She closed her eyes and curled in on herself, hoping it would at least be over fast.

A single ringing thought bit through the fear.

Oh God. Kara’s waiting for me at the restaurant.

Around her metal shrieked, and she heard the vast clang of rending machinery. The inexorable crushing stopped, the bucking limousine going still. Lena opened her eyes, peering through her fingers like a terrified child, and watched in awe as one of the crushed plates tore loose from its moorings and went flying off into the afternoon air.

Hands, strangely delicate, punched through armor plating as if it were cobwebs and ripped the broken shell of Lena’s limo apart, spreading it in every direction.

Lena had never seen Supergirl so panicked. Her eyes were too wide with abject terror, and she seized Lena in her arms, winding her cape around her, and rocketed loose from the car.

Lena’s words were lost to the wind. Supergirl was blasting into the air, flying incredibly fast- too fast. Helpless, she clung to the hero for dear life, feeling woozy as the blood drained from her skull.

She thought, oh, come on, as she passed out again.

When her eyes drifted open, Lena was lying on the ground. Groaning, she sat up slowly, feeling every movement, and realized she’d been lying on a spread red blanket with her suit jacket piled up under her head for a pillow, and she was in the woods. The sun had yielded to the sky, and someone had started a roaring fire a few feet away.

Grateful for the warmth, Lena edged closer. As she did, she realized that she was sitting not on a blanket but on Supergirl’s cape.

Blinking, she looked around.

Supergirl had her back to a tree, curled up on herself with her head hanging between her knees, arms wrapped around to cover her face, and she was sobbing quietly. Lena stared, open-mouthed.

“Supergirl?” she breathed.

Supergirl didn’t respond. Lena rose to her feet, wobbling, and discarded her heels before walking across a bed of soft leaves. She crouched in front of the weeping Kryptonian, stunned when the other woman flinched.

“Supergirl?”

“Lena?”

Her voice was small and soft, all the bravado and righteous authority gone. She sounded strangely human.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I think I am,” said Lena. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

“No,” she sniffed. “A Tauraxian hit me in the head with a greyhound bus. Tuesday afternoon at the office.”

Lena laughed softly, and sat down. “I’m sure. What just happened?”

Supergirl swallowed hard as she looked up. “I panicked. I saw what was happening and I lost control. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt you.”

Lena put a tentative hand in on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“More than you realize,” Supergirl sighed.

“I’m here,” said Lena.

She sat down. Supergirl looked away from her, staring I to the fire a few feet away. In starlight, with the firelight caressing her delicate features and sparkling in her blue eyes, it was impossible to miss how hauntingly beautiful she was… and how haunted herself. Supergirl looked older than her years, a deep sorrow in her eyes that Lena had never seen before.

“I’m claustrophobic,” Supergirl explained. “Not the kind of thing that you advertise.”

“We all have our fears. I have some of my own.”

Lena pushed down thoughts of a pale hand sliding beneath churning black water and shuddered.

With teary eyes, Supergirl looked at her.

“I can’t. I can’t have fears. I’m Supergirl. I have to be perfect, set an example, all that crap. I’m the perfect woman who came from the sky to do only good.”

The perfect woman, Lena thought, consuming the firelit beauty before her. No one would debate that.

Well, Lena would, maybe. There was someone more perfect, someone soft and kind with a devastating smile and laughing eyes tinged with strange sorrow. She hoped Kara wasn’t worrying about her.

It was funny how Lena always thought of Kara when Supergirl was around. Guilt, maybe. Foolish guilt; Kara was a far shore that Lena would never reach, even if she’d gladly sink in the attempt.

“Before I came to Earth, I drifted in the phantom zone in my pod. There were things outside. The pod was the size of a coffin, a tiny space to spend all that time. The phantoms would claw and slash at the canopy and the walls. I was awake for days hearing them trying to get in. Sometimes there were bigger things out there, wrapping arms around it and trying to crush their way in.”

Lena nodded. “That sounds beyond terrible. It’s okay for you to be scared after that.”

Supergirl nodded. “I can barely handle elevators sometimes.”

A jolt went through Lena, something familiar, like a word on the tip of her brain.

“I get scared when other people are enclosed, too,” said Supergirl. “When I saw something trying to crush you, I just lost it. It’s different when it’s you.”

Lena swallowed hard, trying to suppress the shiver that coursed through her body and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Back in high school, the other girls used to bully me,” said Supergirl. Once, they locked me in a closet in the locker room. I screamed and screamed until until someone let me out. Alex was furious, she…”

Supergirl went quiet, trailing off. Her eyes went wide and she jolted back.

Lena sat there for a second, unsure why…

Wait.

Alex?

High school? Supergirl went to high school?

With Alex? Alex Danvers?

Lena choked down a gasp, the wheels whirling in her head. She looked over and met Supergirl’s eyes, studying them. Her. The way the light played across her soft features, her honey hair, the little scar above her eye.

“Hi, Lena.”

“Hi, Kara,” Lena whispered.

Neither of them moved. Lena wondered briefly if Kara had ever planned to tell her, how she might have planned it. Probably not like this. Her throat bobbed.

Lena shifted closer, until they were hip to hip in a seated hug, Kara crying softly on Lena’s shoulder, powerful arms wrapped around her.

“I was scared,” said Lena. “I was afraid I was going to die and you’d be sitting at the table at the restaurant waiting for me.”

“Never,” said Kara. “I’ll always protect you.”

“And I’ll always protect you. Nobody is ever going to shove my Kara in a closet ever again.”

Kara let out a little gasp.

“Can we stay here for a while? Talk? Just you and me?”

Kara nodded. She stood and gathered up her cape as Lena moved close to the fire, and sat down, wrapping it around them both. Lena let her head fall on Kara’s shoulder.

“This makes a nice blanket.”

“It is a blanket. My cousin was swaddled in it when he came to Earth. Don’t worry, I washed it.”

Lena laughed softly, awkwardly trying to decide where to put her hands. She settled on being bold, and put her arm around Kara’s waist. Kara slipped her arms around her shoulder and pulled her in, and Lena hugged her back, tucking herself into Kara’s shoulder.

They sat for a while as the fire burned down low. It was full dark and the fire was nothing but coals.

“I was going to tell you. I wanted to.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” Kara sighed.

Lena swallowed hard, trying not to feel her blood rushing in her ears.

“You know,” she said. “You could kiss me right now, if you wanted. That seems like the kind of thing the hero does after saving the girl.”

“I could?” said Kara.

“You could.”

“Like this?”

Kara was trying to be smooth, and it made it hard for Lena not to giggle. She tipped Lena’s chin up with soft fingers and guided herself in, bringing their lips together. Kara kissed her softly, tentatively. Lena kissed her back just as softly, afraid this moment would shatter if she pressed too hard.

It was easy to shift herself into Kara’s lap, even before Kara lifted her there. Lena knew she was strong but not Kryptonian strong, and it it sent a thrill through her. She liked it.

She liked touching Kara, too. Liked feeling the bunching muscles flex under under hands, the softness of her hair, the way she gasped when she felt Lena’s lips on her throat.

“Never have I wished so badly for a tent and sleeping bags,” said Lena.

“And marshmallows to toast!” said Kara.

“Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Lena giggled.

Kara looked at her intently, and Lena shivered, not from the cold. She’d longed for Kara to see her like that, look at her like that.

“Sometimes,” Kara whispered. “Sometimes I think about other things.”

“We should probably go back,” said Lena. “We have people who are probably looking for us.”

Kara nodded.

“Do you want this to be… do you want us to be?”

“Kara,” said Lena, “I would have asked you out a year ago if I thought I had a chance. I thought you just wanted to be friends.”

Kara swallowed. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?”

Lena smiled softly. “Yes.”

Kara rose and clasped her cape to her shoulders, then gently brought Lena to her feet and lifted her from the ground, holding her close.

“Not so fast this time, okay?”

“Okay,” said Kara, lifting them back into the sky.

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently

Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance

It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.

“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”

“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”

You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.

“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”

“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”

“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”

You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”

“Great, see you in a few.”

“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.

You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.

Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.

With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 

Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 

It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.

Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.

He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.

Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.

Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.

The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.

You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.

He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.

“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 

He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”

You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 

“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.

You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”

He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”

“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”

You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.

“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”

He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 

You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.

When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.

“Well,” you laugh.

“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”

You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”

“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”

“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”

“That could be forever, for all you know.”

“That’s fine with me.”

You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”

“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”

He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 

“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”

“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 

“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”

“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”

“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”

He smirked. “I noticed.”

You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”

He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”

“And then come back here for a movie?”

“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 

The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”

“…kind of.”

“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”

“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”

Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.

The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.

[littlespoonevan]

i'll keep it all to myself

7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)

-

“Hey, killer.”

Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“

“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”

Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.

Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”

“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.

“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.

Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.

“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“

“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”

Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.

Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’

But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.

“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”

“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”

Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”

“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.

They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.

He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.

“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”

“Oh, so you guys talked?”

Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.

“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”

Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”

The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”

[rxzennia]

domestic headcanons

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)

after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?

the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff

you just need to move yourself over

he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for

it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked

when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up

but there’s so much space? 

you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like 

you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk

why do the senior managers have so much space?

but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents

because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you

so there’s your clutter for the other side

though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty

a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough

it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway

surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.

frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.

he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on

“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop

“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you

“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”

he will throw a hissy fit

“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”

will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him

you give him a flat “i will be present as well.” 

you’re so bloody infuriating

he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop

you look at him. what is he trying to do now?

“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”

normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings

but sometimes you cave and indulge him

this is one of those times

“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”

you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way

well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today

a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes

he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could

if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it

and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.

still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him

the only good thing about them, really

because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like

and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)

or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like

loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all

that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting

you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.

mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.

you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps

this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks

in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays

you show up in his room everyday at around the same time

if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there

you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side

and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before

(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)

whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going

in a very, very slurred, sleepy way

you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”

how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?

good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in

otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you

although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it

then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up

more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you

on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him

it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you

he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(

aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.

odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence

your spare scarves keep him company

imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him

he makes the connection very quickly

did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans

he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves

a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly

those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly

but they’re friendly to him because they’re you

one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh

and the others will be all around him

will slobber over him 100%

he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him

they will try to eat his hands

but, like, in a not alarming way

hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool

when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go

literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them

when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.

you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again. 

then you lower your scarf

you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore

oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea

“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric

you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss

the best part (real) 

he snuggles up against your side naturally

you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy

he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house

princess treatment

you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff

“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”

he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”

you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine” 

instantly droops like a kicked puppy

he doesn’t even try to hide it

absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking

feels like you’re back to square one all over again

“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.

you glance at him. “displeased?” 

“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”

you don’t respond 

you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off

he moves on to slapping your face lightly

“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head

surprisingly, you let him

he might also pull on your scarf

and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours

“are you ignoring me…?”

you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”

“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”

“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”

“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”

“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.

eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter Part 11 (18+)

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: smut! fingering (r receiving and giving), oral sex (r giving and receiving), minimal dirty talk, a little accidental overstimulation, marking, it’s a little awkward so if that isn’t your vibe that’s fine, cursing

WC: 8.1k (I know, it got out of hand)

A/N: I HAVE A LOT TO SAY!

If you are reading this series but aren’t one for smut, feel free to skip this chapter. There is nothing super instrumental to the plot happening here besides the physical relationship. Anything plot related will be reiterated and explained in Part 12 so that anyone who doesn’t wish to read this content doesn’t feel lost by skipping it.

Also I’ve mentioned this before, this is not typical hot/heavy/wildest fantasy smut, I wrote this more realistic, it’s a little awkward at points, but I liked writing it this way for this story. Basically, if you’re reading smut just to get off this probably isn’t it, feel free to read my other smut

The walk back to the hotel was relatively quiet. You weren’t able to tell what was running through Jessie’s mind but yours was all over the place.

A sudden feeling of uncertainty was running through your body. You’d had done this before, a few times with a “situationship” you found yourself in your first year of university, and then a few times with drunken flings that you found at the college bar, nothing with much feeling behind it. This felt more serious than that, this was more serious than that. This was Jessie. This wasn’t a drunken decision, this was something you’d wanted for months now.

On top of those nerves came a feeling of inadequacy. She was a professional athlete. She had defined muscles, toned legs, a toned core. She had a cardio stamina a hundred times better than yours. You were just average in comparison. Your job kept you on your feet and moving around but not nearly in as good of shape as Jessie was. The nerves had you keeping your eyes on the ground ahead of you, your hands if not already occupied with the picnic basket would’ve been fidgeting with your shirt or picking at your skin.

At the same time the nerves came with an overwhelming feeling of excitement. This was Jessie. She wanted to sleep with you just as much as you wanted to sleep with her.

The second the door clicks behind the two of you Jessie has you pressed up against it. It’s reminiscent of your first kiss, up against the wall of your office. Only this time it could go as far as you both wanted. There was no risk of someone walking in, the two of you being caught, and you were ready to take advantage of that.

Putting your hands on Jessie’s waist you gingerly begin to push her backward. Much to your dismay, Jessie takes her lips off of yours and steps back.

“Sorry.” She’s quick to apologize, your hands still on her waist.

A whine of frustration almost comes out, you clear your throat and question her. “Why?”

“If that was a lot, I came on a little hard there.” Her hands wave rapidly in the space between the two of you.

“It wasn’t too much.”

“I just figured since you pushed me off.” Her thought trails off. You didn’t want her off of you.

“I wasn’t pushing you off Jessie, I was trying to push you toward the bed.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You point at the bed over her shoulder and she turns to look at it as if she didn’t know it existed.

“Well in that case, can I kiss you again?” You barely nod before Jessie is coming toward you, her hands coming to your face. One of her hands finds the back of your head, preventing you from bumping your head into the door as her body comes up against yours.

This time when your hands push on Jessie’s hips she steps backwards but doesn’t break your kiss. The two of you make your way to the bed carefully, your hands pushing her as she takes cautious steps backward. You get a step away from the bed and lighten the pressure on her hips.

She quickly climbs onto the bed, kneeling before turning back to kiss you as she kneeled up to your height. Her arms reach for you and she pulls you toward the bed. You join her kneeling onto the mattress for a moment before Jessie breaks your kiss and situates herself on the bed. Her hand reaches, clutching the collar of your shirt, pulling you down. Practically falling on her you just barely catch yourself before your face collides with hers.

Ignoring the fact that you both almost had broken you noses against each other, you kiss her hard again. It doesn’t take long for Jessie’s hands to wander. They’re on your shoulders, then running down your sides, she moves them to gently grip your ass, pulling you toward her. She’s caressing every inch of you that she can reach. You want to do the same but your hands are the only thing keeping you from crushing the woman below you.

Her hands then find their way to your chest and now it’s her pushing you back. You break the kiss this time, sitting back to put your weight on your knees.

“Take my shirt off.” Jessie says, breathlessly. Part of you felt like you were in a dream, this was happening, actually happening. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of the midfielder like this before, below you, her hands on you and yours on her, those dreams never lasted too long but you always woke up with your heart racing, just as it was doing now.

“Are you sure?” You say with your hands inches from grasping Jessie’s shirt.

“Yeah I’m sure.” She looks up at you. You can’t help but get lost in her eyes for a moment. You get distracted, leaving your hands frozen reaching out toward Jessie. The way she was looking up at you was intoxicating, her eyes soft a small ring of brown surrounding her wide pupils, you could look into them forever.

“Are you okay? You’ve done this before right?” Jessie’s words break you from your gaze.

“Sex? Yes, I have! Oh my god am I that bad?” You were ready for the floor to open up and swallow you. Mortified that Jessie was under the impression that you had never done this before, that you were clueless.

“No! No, nothings been bad, we’ve barely done anything, it's just you seem pretty nervous,” she pauses before pointing to your hands. “Your hands are shaking.” They were, you knew they were, you just thought maybe you had gotten away without Jessie noticing.

“Just a little nervous.”

“I thought I didn’t make you nervous?” Jessie’s cocky smile is able to put some of your nerves to rest.

“Usually you don’t, but yeah, this is making me a little bit nervous I guess.” Finding a sudden interest in the wall color, you keep your eyes fixated there, avoiding Jessie’s stare up at you. Now you were even more nervous, thanks to her comment.

“We don’t have to do this, if you’d rather wait or just not.”

“No!” Now you’re looking back down at her. She looks at you funny, you realize it maybe sounded like you were saying you didn’t want to. “I mean yes, I want to, I want to have sex, the nerves aren’t bad nerves, it’s just a little adrenaline I think, plus I don’t want to embarrass myself because I really like you. Although at this rate it seems I already have embarrassed myself.” You barely breathe between your sentences, rushing them out to try and limit the embarrassment you’re already feeling. You planned on being red in the face and a little sweaty when this was all done not before you even had your clothes off.

“Sorry I really didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Jessie’s thumbs rub comforting circles on your thighs.

“I’m good.” You were good, incredibly embarrassed, but good.

“Good.”

You curl your lips in biting them between your own teeth and just look at her.

You could get lost in her eyes all over again. The brown color, you never knew why people complained about brown eyes, they were warm, inviting, you loved looking at Jessie’s eyes. Jessie was expressive with her eyes too, it told you a lot about her feelings. Right now her eyes were a mix of lust and a small bit apologetic.

“I really didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed, I promise it’s been good so far. Plus I’m a tiny bit nervous too.” She looks down for a minute then back up to you. “Its an excited nervous and also just regular nervous, because I really, really like you too and I don’t want to mess this up, but I haven’t,” Jessie clears her throat diverting her eyes to a spot on the ceiling, “It’s just been a while since I’ve done anything with anyone.”

“Worried it’s been so long they’ve changed the fundamentals of sex?” You can’t help but crack the joke to her.

“Hey,” she playfully shoves you, “I didn’t poke too much fun at your nerves.”

“Right, I’m sorry. While we’re airing out everything, it’s been a while for me too, a year, at least.” You think maybe expressing your own lack of recent fornication will ease Jessie’s nerves.

“Well then we’re in a similar boat.”

“So if they’ve changed it neither of us will know.” You shrug at her.

“Just come here.” Jessie says before she doesn’t give you a choice, her hand grabs a fistful of your shirt again and pulls you back down to her. Before your lips touch she looks you in the eye before whispering “Kiss me until your nerves are gone.”

You do just that. You bring your lips to Jessie’s, kissing her softly a couple of times, just a few pecks. Her hand remains on your thigh, the other running through your hair. Her thumb still gently rubs circles on your thigh, a soothing and grounding feeling. Her hand squeezes ever so slightly as you open your lips against hers and her hand in her hair pushes you closer to her. Kissing Jessie lets your mind go blank. You become engulfed in the feeling of her lips on yours, you’re no longer caught up in the nerves and overthinking.

The two of you stay kissing for a couple minutes Jessie’s hands finding their way to your waist, her fingers teasing at the skin under your shirt. You pull away finally, pressing yourself up using your hands on either side of Jessie’s head. She smiles up at you, her hair is messy, as you're sure yours is as well from her hand running through it. Jessie’s fingers continue to gently stroke your skin mindlessly as you two look at each other.

“You can take off my shirt, if you want.” You offer, knowing Jessie probably wouldn’t make the move to take it off of you without you asking. Her fingers are quick to grab the bottom of your shirt before pulling upward. Jessie being below you gives her an awkward angle trying to pull your shirt off meaning it gets caught on your elbow on one arm and on your head. It causes you to laugh as you’re sitting in Jessie’s lap, shirt stuck over your head, you can feel her let out a quick laugh, her stomach tensing beneath you.

“Here, I’ll get it.” You feel Jessie’s hands let go of the shirt. You maneuver it quickly before ridding yourself of the shirt, tossing it to the floor.

“Sorry that was really not smooth.”

“It’s fine Jessie.” You bend down kissing her again and your hands now find the bottom of her shirt, finishing the action you had planned to do many minutes ago. “Can I?”

“Yeah, let me sit up.” You put your weight onto your knees instead of Jessie’s lap, allowing her to scoot herself up to sit. She taps your hips once she’s sitting up, “Sit back down.” You do, now sitting more on her thighs than her waist. She sticks her arms up and you slowly pull her shirt up and over, tossing it in the same direction as yours.

Jessie’s eyes trail from your face down to your bra and down your waist, her hands find their place on your shoulders where your bra straps sit. You noticed her fingers, again making small movements, tracing soothing patterns into your skin. She leaned forward putting her lips below her hand, kissing your collarbone. She placed a line of kisses across the prominent bone before switching to give attention to the other side.

Her lips then found their way up your neck, those kisses more intense, open mouthed, her tongue running over your skin, making goosebumps appear across all of your exposed skin. You let the breath out of your chest and your eyes flutter shut as you feel her suck slightly just above the base of your neck.

She pulls back, “good?”

“Mhmm.” You hum before pushing her neck gently back in the direction of where her lips had just been. She obliges, reconnecting with your neck and sucking harder as you encourage her, your hand pressing her into your neck.

She pulls away a minute later and you open your eyes, tilting your head back down to watch Jessie open her own eyes.

“Oh my god.” Her hand clasps over her mouth, her eyes open wide and glued to your neck, a horrified look in her eyes.

“What?” You ask, but you already have a good idea of why she was staring.

“I left a mark.” Eyes still wide with fear, she doesn’t look at you, vision glued to what you assumed was a bright red marking.

“Jessie!” Your hand immediately clasps over where the warmth from her lips was still radiating. “You gave me a hickey?!”

“I wasn’t trying to, I wasn’t even sucking that hard!”

“I guess I should’ve mentioned I bruise easily.” You slowly take your hand away. “Is it bad?”

“Uh.” Jessie looks from your neck to your face and back to your neck. “It’s there. It’s definitely there. And it’s definitely too high up a shirt won’t cover it. A sweatshirt maybe. Oh my, your Mom is going to kill me.” Jessie’s words are quick and scrambled with her panic.

“Nope, nope.” You bring a hand to cover Jessie’s mouth and stop her talking. “We’re not talking about my Mom while I’m sitting in your lap.”

“Sorry.” Jessie mumbles into the palm of your hand, you remove it and put it back on her waist. She squeezes her eyes shut, tilting her head down with a slight shake. “I really didn’t mean to, I would’ve asked for permission if I planned on leaving a mark, I’ll help you cover it, I can see if Janine has makeup-”

“Take my bra off.” Her head shoots back up as you interrupt her.

“Are you sure? I figured I killed the mood by giving you a hickey like an inexperienced teenager.”

“No, you didn’t, to be fair, it felt really good. Plus it’s half my fault, I pushed your head. So, if you want to keep going, I’d like you to take off my bra and maybe you can put those suction skills of yours to work somewhere more hidden?” You raise your voice at the end, indicating you were asking her a question, more making her an offer.

She nods, her loose curls bouncing slightly around her face. She brings a hand around your back, you feel her fumble with the clasp for a second, Jessie face scrunched in concentration. Just as you’re about to offer help you feel the elastic give and the straps on your shoulders slip down slightly. The feeling, realizing you were suddenly going to be exposed brings back some of your nerves. Her hands move to hold the straps, she looks up to you again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod at her and her fingers gently pull the straps down your arms, she keeps eye contact with you, not looking at your chest or the bra, not watching her own hands. Once your bra is off and on the floor with the growing pile of clothes Jessie’s hands come back to your body.

“Can I flip us over?” Her hands rest on your lower back. You give her permission and with ease she moves you off of her and onto your back before rolling over to position herself between your thighs. Your legs wrap gently around her waist. The position reminds you briefly of how the two of you were laying on top of each other at the field, her on top of you, her weight and warmth pressed into your body. You watch as Jessie takes in the sight of your bare torso. Her eyes make a path from your neck down, looking left to right, her attention being grabbed by your actively hardening nipples. She trails her eyes down the rest of your stomach before coming back up to look at you.

“You’re perfect.”

Jessie’s lips returning to your neck brings you out of your thoughts and back to the present. Her kisses are more tentative, likely she doesn’t want to accidentally mark you again. Part of you wishes she’d suck another mark. This time after making passes on your collar bones, Jessie’s mouth makes its way down the valley of your breasts.

You hum in content as Jessie moves her mouth to the flesh of your chest. She sucks just as she had on your neck, you watch as she works, her eyes are closed, focused expression on her face. She sucks a little harder making a groan bubble up from your throat. She doesn’t release her mouth but her eyes open, locking to yours while she seductively sucked harder. Jessie removes her mouth, taking a second to admire her work, a dark red circle sitting just under your nipple is left behind, she smiles before repeating the process on the other half of your chest.

Her hands have remained off of you while her mouth worked. You wanted her touch. Your own hands are all over her, they’re in her hair then on her cheek, then gently scratching down her back, squeezing her waist, holding her shoulders. You couldn’t make up your mind on where you wanted them, you wanted them everywhere. As Jessie continues to mark and tease your skin with her mouth you bring your fingers into the elastic band of her bra. You gently dig your fingers under the band hoping she’ll get the hint. She does, releasing the suction she had on you, giving each of your nipples a quick kiss before she sits up and away from you. You sit up with her, keeping your fingers just dipped under her bra.

“Can I take this off?” You look up at her. She doesn’t answer right away, she's just looking down at you, her eyes are glossed over . “Jessie?”

“Yeah?” She blinks a few times.

“Your bra? Can I take it off? If you want to keep it on, that's okay.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I just got distracted looking at you. You’re so pretty.” She leans down giving you a quick peck. Her words have your cheeks flushing pink. She’d complimented you before, but it was different, the way she got distracted looking at you, lost in her thoughts because she was looking at you. It made you feel wanted and that made you want her even more. Your fingers dig further under her bra and she moves her arms to raise them over her head. You’re able to get the bra about halfway off her arms before you can no longer reach and Jessie gets stuck for a moment, letting out a small giggle as the bra covered her face before she used her own hands to remove the fabric fully.

You weren’t sure if you should look. You wanted to, you wanted to admire every inch of her, but she had restrained her gaze on your own chest for a bit, so you do the same, looking at her face instead. Seeing you staring at her Jessie leans down to press her lips to yours. You sit up even more, putting the two of you in the same position from the other night, Jessie straddling you as you two made out. Only now instead of layers of clothing between the two of you, you felt her bare skin on yours.

The warmth of her chest on yours sends a shiver down your spine. You want to hold her tight to you like this forever. Her nails gently scratch down your back causing you to moan quietly against Jessie’s lips. She gets the hint you like it and she digs her nails in a bit harder, leaving red streaks down your back. The action has you throwing your head back away from Jessie to let out a louder moan.

“Hmm, someone likes that.” Jessie teases you, a smirk across her face. You roll your eyes at her, you want to make a smartass comment back but you can’t come up with anything in the moment too overwhelmed with the situation to come up with a coherent thought. Instead you sit up on your knees, pushing Jessie back so that you could climb on top of her, taking back a little bit of control.

Now you’re finally able to take in her figure. Your eyes float down to her chest, the sight has you nearly rolling your eyes back. Jessie was perfect, of course she was, but it still shocked you for some reason. You let your eyes take in all of her skin, smooth, her nipples hard, a couple of scars and scratches across her body, ones you had seen before with medical treatment, most of them from being an athlete. Her toned stomach. And then of course there’s her freckles.

You get distracted by her freckles. Of course the freckles on her face have always been a prominent feature you found adorable. You had seen the freckles on her shoulders and back before when you treated her. But now you take extra notice of them, she has freckles across her whole body, down her neck, across her chest, down her stomach, resting above her waistband, they’re everywhere. You have the urge to put your lips on every single marking on her skin, but you refrain, maybe you could do that another day.

Bringing your lips to her skin you begin to make your way down her neck, placing soft kisses before moving further down until Jessie’s hands hold you firm in the spot against her collarbone. You gently suck at the spot, feeling Jessie let out a sigh followed by a quiet whine. You can’t help but smile at her reaction, losing the suction to her skin. Taking your hand you place it on her stomach before slowly sliding it upward until you hit the curve of her breast. Not hearing any protest, you slide your hand further cupping her, giving a gentle squeeze before your thumb focuses on her nipple.

“That’s good.” Her words come out breathy. Her eyes flutter shut as your lips connect with her other nipple. Your tongue gently circling the bud. “Fuck.” The profanity is said so quietly from Jessie’s lips you barely hear it.

You continue pleasing her, switching between your hand and your mouth making sure you give even attention to both sides. You start to notice Jessie moving her hips. She grinds gently upward against your thigh as you suck a small mark into the skin below her breast. You give in to her movements, placing your thigh strategically to put pressure between her legs, you lean into her and she groans, flicking her hips upward.

You bring your hands to the button on her jeans, looking up at her for her permission. “Go ahead.” She puts her heels into the mattress and picks up her hips so let you shimmy her jeans off her pants. You don’t mean to but you realize as you get her jeans halfway down her thighs that you’ve grabbed her underwear too.

“Oops, sorry.” You separate the two waistbands and begin to just pull down her jeans.

“Don’t be sorry, just take them off too.” Jessie props herself up on her elbows to look at you. You listen, your hands going back up to start pulling down both her pants and underwear. You add the garments to the pile. When you turn and see Jessie, who was now completely naked in front of you, propped up on her elbows watching you with a stare, you freeze.

You didn’t know what to do. Well you did, you’ve done it before, you just, this was Jessie, someone new, you were starting from square one. You feel Jessie’s hands grab yours bringing you back into the moment. “You alright?” She says, giving each hand a squeeze.

Her voice and grounding gesture remind you that while yes this was Jessie, that’s what was going to make this easy, it was Jessie. “Yeah, I’m good.” You flash her a smile. “Uh so,” you glance down between her legs then back to her face, “is there anything you definitely don’t want me to do? Mouth, hands, anything?”

You watch as Jessie thinks for a second, “No, whatever you’re comfortable with is good but just as a tip I probably won’t get off just from you know, inside, I usually need, outside,” she lets her voice drop off and you’re not sure if she’s done with her sentence or if she just got shy.

“Yeah, I’m the same way.” You offer her the suggestion about your own body now while she’s showing her own vulnerability. “Inside and outside usually is easiest for me.”

Jessie nods “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Leaning over you let go of Jessie’s hands to brace yourself above her. You give Jessie a peck on the lips and then one on her cheek and all the way down her neck. You nestle your head into the crook of her neck, kissing her neck and shoulder as you bring your right hand down and between her legs. You find her thigh first, gently dragging your fingers on the inside of her thigh higher and higher to let her know where you were going. Her skin is smooth and you feel her thighs clench as your hand gets higher and higher until you can tell your just in the crease of her thigh. You let your hand sit for a second.

“Touch me.” Jessie murmurs into your ear which is conveniently placed just next to her lips with your head in her neck. You take a deep breath and you do as she asks. Your fingers run over her once before you dip your ring and middle fingers lower. You start to feel her arousal coat your fingers before you run them upward through her. You pause when you hear Jessie’s breath hitch in her throat as you don’t hear her let the breath out.

“Are you okay?” You pick your head up to ask her.

“Mmmhm.” She hums. “Keep going.”

Bringing your fingers back down you feel her entrance and the slick that’s covering it. You’d come back to that you decided, bringing your fingers back up and finding her clit. You start with barely any pressure, just circling the bundle of nerves once then twice, before lifting your head again. “Is this okay?”

“Good, more pressure though.” She guides you and you follow, increasing the pressure on your fingers. After a few minutes of the movement, Jessie lets out a pleased sigh followed by a deep moan. “That’s, that’s good, fuck.”

It wasn’t often you heard Jessie curse, once or twice on the field, a few other times, but this was now your new favorite way she said it. Letting profanities fall from her mouth because of the feelings you were providing was definitely an ego boost. You keep circling her clit, listening to the noises she made, telling you if you were doing the right thing. Caught up in the way she was whining, your name coming out from her lips a few times, you were surprised when you felt her hand come down to grasp yours.

“Can you put them inside?” She says when you remove your head from her shoulder to see why she had grabbed your hand.

“Of course.” You want to bring your fingers to your lips, to taste her, instead you have a better idea. “Can I taste you, while I finger you?” You clarify.

“God you’re hot asking for what you want.” She pushes your hand toward her opening. “Yes, you can.” Her permission is all you need and you’re moving off of her and lying between her legs, you grab them and place one over your shoulder and push the other up and out to give you room for your hand. You can see the arousal you spread with your fingers coating her. Using your fingers you gently spread her before placing your tongue flat against her core and licking a long slow strip up. When your tongue crosses her clit she bucks her hips, already sensitive from your fingers. You get lost in her flavor, tasting her, enjoying the feeling of your tongue on her in the most intimate way.

Alternating your movements you suck and lick her core until her hands are on your head, pushing and pulling you while she ground her hips into your face. You were surprised by how noisy Jessie was in bed. She wasn’t necessarily loud in terms of volume. She didn’t say too many words but she filled the air with moans, whimpers, deep breaths, the sound of her breath catching, all noises that were spurring you on. “Add your fingers please.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

You bring your two fingers to her entrance and begin to push into her. You both moan as you slide one in. The feeling of her warm and tight around your finger is enough and you can tell your underwear would be plenty damp when it came off. You give her a few thrusts with one finger before pushing in with two to no complaint of Jessie. You pump with both fingers slowly at first before beginning to speed up adding a curling motion.

Jessie’s grip tightens in your hair. You also notice the slight trembling on her thighs and the way she’s practically riding your face and tongue. You try keeping your movements the same, obviously getting a positive reaction from Jessie but it was hard as she would unexpectedly jerk her hips or pull your hair. You weren’t complaining though as you felt her begin to tighten around your fingers. “That feels so good.” She lets out a sigh. Her legs start to move, closing you in and holding you tight to her. “I’m going to,” she tries to warn you as her orgasm interrupts her, a moan of your name is the next thing out of her mouth.

You can feel her pulsating around your fingers, you keep moving them slowly, easing Jessie through her orgasm. Her hips jerk against your tongue a few times before she pulls up and away and her legs fall back to the bed from where they had tightened around your head. Slowly you removed your fingers, watching the small string of her arousal still connected the two of you as you pulled away. Lifting up onto your elbows you look at her. Her cheeks are red, she’s panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but most importantly she’s beaming, a big toothy grin on her face.

“Was that okay?” Obviously she had finished but this was about more than that, you wanted to make sure she was okay, comfortable, that she felt okay with what you did.

“That was more than okay.” She motions for you to come closer to you. You crawl up her body and she pulls you into a passionate kiss, it’s slow and deep, your tongues meet and you know she can taste herself on your lips. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no need to thank me, I had just a good of time as you did.”

“Can I return the favor?” Not only is she asking with her words but her eyes are looking up at you, practically begging as well as her hands are resting on the waistband of your pants, implying she wanted them off.

“Only if you want to, I don’t expect you to.”

“I want to, if you want me to?”

“Yeah, I do.” You climb off of Jessie standing next to the bed and bringing your own hands to the button of your pants. Just as you start to fiddle with the button Jessie speaks.

“Can I do it?”

Standing up she made her way in front of you. Her hands dropped to meet yours. Gently removing your fingers she replaced them with her own, undoing the button and zipper.

“Hang on,” Your hands come back to pause hers. “I just, I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t shaved in a little while, my legs, or anything else.”

Pinching her eyebrows together Jessie gives you a goofy look. “I don’t know if I should be offended that you’d think I’d care about something like that. I clearly hadn't shaved too recently either. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Does it bother you, because if you’re uncomfortable doing this because you haven’t shaved we don’t have to.”

“No, I just wanted you to know, before you saw.”

“Okay, we’ll just so you know, in the most polite way, I don’t care.” You pull your hands back up, off of hers to let her continue. She pulls your pants down squatting in front of you to help you step out. You use her shoulder to brace yourself as you slide out each foot. Staying squatting Jessie brings her hands up to your black underwear. You nod before she can ask and her fingers hook into the band, slowly dragging them down, again helping you step out of them.

Instead of immediately standing up Jessie brings her lips to your thighs, placing a kiss before moving over to your other thigh repeating the process. She places kissing alternately legs all the way up to your hips, intentionally avoiding where you desperately wanted her to be. She then stands putting you face to face again.

“Lay down.” She glances to the bed and you’re embarrassingly quick to lay down in the center. Once you lay, you notice Jessie’s eyes on you, scanning your whole body before moving to crawl onto the bed.

Her hands find the skin just above your knees, giving them a gentle push, encouraging you to open your legs. You spread your legs and can’t help but feel self conscious as you watch Jessie’s eyes fixate at the apex of your legs. You know she can probably see how desperately you want her, you can feel your own wetness between your legs. She lets out a breath and moves to kneel between your thighs.

Her right hand slides up your thigh, fingers gently caressing the skin as she moves up, pausing just on the crease of your leg. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” You didn’t want to sound too impatient but you also wanted her to touch you, to fuck you.

You notice her hands are cold when they first touch you. She slides her fingers between your lips, opening you to gather some of your wetness on her fingers. She drags her fingers upward finding your clit. Her touch is foreign, unfamiliar, different from what your body knows, which is the feeling of your own fingers.

“Still okay?” Jessie asks as she circles your clit with her fingers.

“Mhhhhmm” Your eyes are fixated watching her wrist, the way her forearm flexes as she touches you.

Jessie continues her movements, she smiles when you start to shift your hips in time with her fingers. She dips her fingers again, gathering more of your arousal to coat her fingers before she places them back to your opening. She just lets her fingers sit there looking up to you for permission. You give her a nod.

You feel her start to gently push into your entrance with two fingers, already feeling a slight stretch, you grab her wrist.

“Go slow, please, your fingers are bigger than mine.”

“Of course, let me know if it’s uncomfortable. I technically have lube.” You cock your head learning that.

“Why do you-”

“It’s with the condoms, I didn’t pack it, they give all the athletes condoms, there’s lube too.” She shakes her head slightly before glancing over to the side table, likely where the condoms were.

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I knew about the condoms, not the lube.”

“Yeah.” You both just look at each other, as if you both have forgotten what you’re in the middle of. Jessie adjusts the way she’s sitting, making her fingers slide along your opening, bringing you back to the activity at hand.

“I should be fine, I mean, I’m wet, just it’s been a while, so just go slow.”

Jessie nods and readjusts herself again so that she’s lying next to you, her fingers still resting at your opening, placing the slightest pressure into you. She brings her mouth to yours into a open mouthed kiss and at the same time begins to slide a single finger into you.

Her first finger slides easily, she moves slowly knuckle by knuckle until her palm is resting against you. She pulls out and pushes back in faster this time. Her fingers were not only thicker than yours but longer too.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, feels good.”

The room is relatively silent with the exception of the labored breathing between the two of you, the sound of your lips on each other, and the noise coming from between your legs as Jessie’s finger pumps in and out.

Jessie pulls out and pauses this time, you feel her place her second finger next to her first. She pulls away from your kiss to watch your face as she slides in her fingertips, you feel yourself clench around her and she pauses for a moment.

“Doing alright?”

“Yeah Jess, feels good.” You’d never been with anyone so attentive, so focused on making you feel comfortable. You take a deep breath as she slides her fingers in further, there’s a stretch but not uncomfortable. You adjust your legs, opening them more to try and ease the feeling of tightness.

Once her fingers are in, Jessie doesn’t pull them out, she gently curls them up and lets her hand rock against you. The base of her palm applies pressure to your clit. She lets her hand rock against you a few times and the tightness begins to fade, the pleasure from her palm rubbing your clit taking over.

Moaning into Jessie’s mouth as she kisses you, encouraging her to keep up her movements. She does, rocking her hand more aggressively. She pulls her lips from yours and buries her head into your side to kiss below your ear and down your neck.

It was a good feeling, her fingers inside of you and her palm bumping your clit but you could tell it likely wouldn’t be enough, you needed a little more stimulation. “Jessie.” You get her attention.

“Yeah?”

“Can you use your other hand on my clit? This feels good but I think I need a little more direct stimulation.”

“Of course.” Jessie gives you one last kiss before she moves her head away from yours. Jessie climbs over your thigh to sit between your legs again. She brings her previously free hand down, her thumb finding your clit while her other hand continues to work in and out of you.

Immediately feeling the wave of pleasure from the direct attention she was giving your bundle of nerves, you throw your head back, letting your mouth fall open with a moan of appreciation. “That’s good.” You manage to whisper.

Tilting your head back down you watch Jessie. She’s still naked. Her bicep is bulging on the arm thrusting into you, her cheeks still dusted with a blush, she’s staring where her hands are touching you with such focus it’s as if nothing else in the room existed.

You could stare at her forever, watching how her face reacts when you let out a whine, a smirk of satisfaction coming across her lips, how she pinches her eyebrows in concentration. But the more she touches you the more you feel the tightening in your stomach. The tightening that meant this would all be over in a matter of a few minutes.

Screwing your eyes shut you debate having her change what she was doing in an attempt to prolong your orgasm but when you open your eyes again and you’re met with her eyes watching your face a flash of heat runs through your body and you know there’s no stopping the inevitable now.

“Jessie.” You’re cautious not to moan her name too loudly, but loud enough that she hears it. “Keep going, I’m going to cum.” Your hips start to roll into her hand, chasing your high. Your hands come up to grasp at the pillow behind your head as your back arches up and off the bed. Her fingers inside of you feel so deep, hitting every pleasurable spot, your walls start to clench around her and you see her give one last cocky smile before your eyes slam shut as the wave of pleasure crashes over you.

A string of profane words falls out of your mouth, you’re not even sure what you’re saying, all of your senses overwhelmed with the pleasure of your orgasm, your heartbeat in your ears, the grasp of the sheets in your hands, the tingle running across your skin. Jessie continues her motions, exactly as she had been, letting you jerk your hips and legs as needed to get yourself through the high. She only slows once you start to squirm away from her touch instead of pressing into it.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking a few times to clear the spots you had from shutting them so hard. You look up to see Jessie looking back at you with awe as she kneeled between your legs. “You’re really hot.” Her compliment mixed with the come down of your orgasm has you blushing, throwing your hand over your face, peeking at her through your fingers. She’s smirking at you, her bottom lip between her teeth. You pull your hand away to look at her.

Keeping her eyes on yours she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking off your release. A small hum of satisfaction falls from her throat. “You taste so good. Can I?” She glances down to your core.

“Can you what?”

Jessie pauses and you can tell she’s contemplating what to say. “With my mouth, can I, uh, eat you out?”

She’s looking at you, wide eyes with excitement. The fingers previously in her mouth rest on her bottom lip. You weren’t one usually for back to back rounds, you needed a little bit of time between, but the way Jessie was looking at you like she was ready to devour you changed your mind. It wouldn’t hurt to let her try. “You can try, I might be too sensitive.”

Not hesitating she quickly moves herself between your legs. Her hands come up to the bend in your knee, gently pushing your legs up and out. Jessie sticks her tongue out flat so it rests along her mouth toward her chin and brings her face to your already wet and sensitive core. Her first lick is slow, feather light, she’s barely touching you. Her second pass is more firm, still slow but with pressure. By her third lick you can tell she’s not just feeling you out anymore.

“Oh fuck.” Your suspicions are confirmed, you’re sensitive, the feeling of her tongue bordering on immense pleasure and also overstimulation. You can tell she’s enjoying herself the way she’s moaning into you, sending slight vibrations against you, so you let her keep going. Fisting the sheets tight with your hands you try to relax, ease into the pleasure and away from the overstimulation. She continues, her lips providing a soft suction while her tongue flicks over your sensitive skin, causing you to jerk away from her, her arms wrapped tightly around your thighs makes your movement almost pointless as she holds you in place.

“Fuck, shit, Jessie stop, too sensitive.” You gently push her head away which she obeys and you close your legs. “Sorry, I thought I’d be fine.”

Jessie lifts her head, you can see your wetness covering her lips and chin. “Don’t apologize. You say stop I’ll stop, no questions. I’ll just start with that next time.”

Next time. She said next time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at where she was laying, her cheek pressed against your inner thigh as she rested her head looking up at you.

“Next time?” Repeating her words back to her.

“I mean, only if you want to. I didn’t see this as a one time thing, I hope you didn’t either. I thought with the date, we could maybe keep going on dates and then that way we’d get to do more of this too.”

“Yeah, next time, I like the sound of that.” Smiling at you Jessie unwraps her arms from your thighs and moves up your body to place a kiss on your lips. It’s a slow and sloppy kiss in a way that’s passionate and yet still relaxing.

She rolls off of you and lays next to you. The two of you lay in silence, it's peaceful, not uncomfortable, the hum of the air conditioner making the only noise. Her hand finds yours and she laces your fingers together momentarily before she plays with your fingers, tracing patterns across each one and then doing the same to your palm. Her movements are relaxing and you feel yourself starting to doze off only to be jolted awake by the elbow in your side.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, you’ve got to brush your teeth and you should probably pee.” Jessie says softly to you.

You roll to look at her. Half open eyes you give her a sleepy smile. “But I’m comfortable here.”

“Come on.” Jessie hops off the bed, extending a hand to you, you take it and let her pull you up. “I’m going to shower, there’s extra towels if you want to as well.”

“Yeah that would probably be nice. I’ll brush my teeth and then leave and you can shower first.” You say as you both walk into the bathroom.

You flick on the light switch and look in the mirror taking in your appearance looking at your face first. Your cheeks are red, your hair is a mess, you look tired. It’s then that you see the mark Jessie accidentally made on your neck. “Oh my god Jessie, what the hell?” You lean into the mirror to further inspect the damage. The mark was darker and larger than you had expected, and it was undeniably a hickey, you wouldn’t be able to argue you burnt yourself on a curling iron like you had in high school. It was also near the middle of your neck, you’d be lucky if a sweatshirt covered it.

“I know, it’s only gotten darker too, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean it. I’ll call Janine in the morning, she’ll have stuff to cover it.” Jessie looks guilty, an apologetic tone obvious in her voice.

“I cannot believe you.” You say all while slowly shaking your head and smiling at her in the mirror. You really weren’t upset, it was going to be hard to cover but not impossible.

“Let me make it up to you?” She bats her eyes at you a few times in the mirror.

You turn to face her. “Yeah? How are you going to do that?”

“Get in the shower and I’ll show you.”

[lightleak007]

~ The Legend of How You Disappeared ~

Storyline: Kokushibo thought that people with rare blood are the only ones who can make him feel the excitement of consuming them. But you—you are awakening his humanistic urge that is supposed to be long forgotten.

!! SMUT ALERT !!

!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !!

PS. Hi, reader! I'm making my tumblr debut with one of my favorite Demon Slayer Character x Reader stories that I made. Hope you enjoy reading~

During the Taisho period, it is part of the culture to be married at a young age. The age of sixteen is the appropriate age to have a husband through an arranged marriage. That’s why learning how to be a good wife is much more important than learning how to be intellectual.

You had prepared yourself for the day to be chosen as a bride, but your life wasn’t the same as everybody else—no one wanted you.

If only you were chosen and got married by the age of sixteen, you wouldn’t be seen as bad luck by your own family and everybody else in town.

As you live your life for two decades, you are seen as a disgrace, and everyone who knew you always looked at you with pity in their eyes. Even work does not come easy since everyone believes you’ll only attract misfortune to their business. It got you thinking that maybe life isn’t hard, it’s just you finding it hard to live because the people around you make it so.

It feels like you’re just breathing, but not living—you feel empty and unwanted. The only thing that gives you peace of mind is an evening walk, and you developed a habit of doing it every night without a miss.

Even with the rumors about a demon who hunts humans for food being the only talk in your town lately, it doesn’t stop you to take a late-night walk. More like, you don’t care if you encounter the demon and he puts an end to your life—or maybe the demon won’t even choose you to be their prey in the first place.

You scoffed at the thought of encountering a picky demon as you continue to walk towards the riverside. When you got to your usual spot, you put down your lantern on the grass before sitting beside it. The moon is unusually bright tonight and its light is reflecting on the calm water that is flowing in the river in front of you.

“Ah~ It feels a little chilly tonight,” you said to yourself as you felt the night breeze, and put on your haori that you brought with you. Nighttime is the only time you are free—from judgments and the pitiful stare of everyone you know. It feels nice to have solitude and the gentle flow of wind against you is adding to your relaxation.

The cold air of the night keeps brushing against your skin and as the wind blows, your scent is being flown with it—reaching the nostrils of the rumored demon in the area. He can feel his senses tingle upon smelling a human nearby.

Kokushibo moves swiftly to your location, his hunger beginning to rise within him. Just by your scent, he could tell you are a woman in her younger years, and the closer he gets to where you are… his sixth sense revealed much more.

Without you noticing him, Kokushibo stands a few feet away behind you. He couldn’t believe what he could see with his sixth sense, but he knows that his eyes are not lying to him.

Kokushibo can tell without a doubt that you are a virgin.

A thrill runs in his veins and an unfamiliar urge is igniting within him upon knowing this. Kokushibo thought that people with rare blood are the only ones who can make him feel the excitement of consuming them. But you—you are awakening his humanistic urge that is supposed to be long forgotten.

Being a demon, Kokushibo did not think that it was possible for him to feel any sexual urge, especially, toward a human. For demons, humans are nothing but food and power source. Yet when your scent penetrated his nostrils, a tingling sensation runs through under his skin, and his instincts told him to have you.

Kokushibo unsheaths his fleshy sword from his side. Thinking to himself that after he absorbs you, he'll be back to his usual self—being composed and reserved. In just one slash, he knew he could end your life and he won’t be bothered by his humanistic feelings anymore.

You only became aware of someone else’s presence behind you when you felt a sharp tip pressing at your back. A gasp left your lips and your mind wondered who could it be. Your heart races its beat as you slowly turn your head to see who it is.

A louder gasp escapes from you upon realizing that the person who pointed his sword at you, is in fact, a demon. You tilt your face away to see him, he has three pairs of eyes that can’t go unnoticed by someone. His face has flame markings on the left side of his forehead and on the right side of his chin. He stands tall in front of you and his spiky hair is tied in a ponytail behind his head. He’s wearing a purple kimono with beehive patterns on it and partnered it with black hakama pants that are tied with a white cloth belt on his waist. Somehow, you felt admiration for his majestic features.

“W-Who are you…?” You asked as he pointed his fleshy sword at your face this time. Well, you guess this is where your miserable life ends.

Even as a demon, he’s polite enough to answer your question. “Upper Moon Rank One of Twelve Kizuki,” he saw how your face looks puzzled at what he said, “Kokushibo.” He was a little surprised that you did not run away screaming.

As someone who’s tired of living, you don’t feel scared anymore of getting killed by him. It’s not your wish to spend your time growing old in a world that only gives unfairness to you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t run away,” you said as you get up on your feet, “You can do anything to me. I’ve been ready to throw my life away anyway, Kokushibo.” You flashed him a genuine smile—something you haven’t done in a long time.

Kokushibo’s eyebrows twitch, “Do…anything to her?” He thought as he felt the shivers that run through his body, and the smile that you gave him only made his heart fall. He pointed his sword to your chest and he watches as you anticipated the slash.

You waited with eyes-closed, heartbeat racing but there’s no regret creeping into your chest. Then, you felt the sword swing across your body and the breeze of the night penetrated your skin. Slowly, you opened one eye to see what happened—only to see Kokushibo sheathing his sword back to his side.

When the wind flew again, it felt too cold against your body. Realization slowly sank in you as shredded pieces of clothing swayed in front of your eyes. You look at your body and found yourself…naked.

“I have permission to do anything to you right now,” Kokushibo catches your waist and pulled your naked body closer to his. His face inching closer to your neck and his other hand already caressing one of your breasts.

“A-Aren’t you—hng!” The feeling of his lips kissing lavishly on your neck made you hold off your question. You weren’t aware that a demon like him could be a pervert and would do sexual advances on his prey—this wasn’t what you expected. His sharp nails grazing against your back made you elicit a shuddering breath and caused you to push your chest closer to him.

Kokushibo slathers his tongue from your shoulder blade to your neck and it reaches until the back of your ears. “Your taste is addicting….” He paused upon the realization that he doesn’t know your name.

“Tell me…” Kokushibo pulled your chin to tilt your head and made you look at him, “...your name, human.”

“_______,” you answered without hesitation as you hold onto his shoulders and felt your heart flutter at his compliment. Your naked body presses close to him and you can feel a hard tent poking on your thigh.

“_______,” Kokushibo repeated as if your name is something he won’t ever want to forget. His hands ran all over your body as his mouth started working on your neck again. Your scent and taste against Kokushibo’s senses are enough to make him moan. He ran his fangs on the veins of your neck and the urge to bite you is so strong but his sexual urge for you is stronger.

The feeling of Kokushibo’s lips against your skin is ticklish and sensual, both feelings are something you never had before from someone else. You felt your body being guided to lay down on the grass where your shredded clothes are. As soon as your back hits the ground, Kokushibo hovers on top of you and seizes your lips.

“Hmng!” The sudden kiss caught you off-guard, making it hard to respond as his tongue invades your mouth. You can only release puffs of air and let him eagerly suck on your tongue—the sensation is electrifying.

Kokushibo keeps himself busy as he savors your taste in your mouth, not really minding all the saliva he’s been slurping from you. It has been so long since he ever kissed someone and he’s well aware that not even with his wife from before time, had awakened a such desire he’s been feeling for you. He doesn’t want to stop and his tongue pushes deep into your mouth—nearly reaching your throat.

You almost choked and your eyes filled with tears as you find it hard to breathe. With all the strength that you have, you pushed him away and moaned, “Ko-Kokushibo…”

There’s a trickle of saliva on the side of his mouth as he pulled away and the way you moaned his name made him feel a throb in his aching length. Kokushibo wiped off your stained cheek with his cold hand as gently as he could. He’s feeling too much ache between his legs that his clothing is making him feel more uncomfortable.

You watch as Kokushibo undress between your legs, he has pale skin but a muscular body, and your eyes were interrupted from lowering down your gaze when he hoists your legs in his arms. The dripping of your arousal in between your legs is being reflected by the moonlight, and the embarrassment snaps in you as Kokushibo leans in closer to your wetness.

Kokushibo inhales deep your arousal scent—too inviting for him. He felt your hips squirming away in shyness but he had no problem firming his hold on your thighs. His hands spread your wetness open and his sharp nails dug into your inner thighs at the sight of your tight hole. Every breath that he takes is heavy as he keeps himself in control.

You started to feel more embarrassed and insecure as Kokushibo stay in a daze with your virgin hole. But, every puff of air from his mouth feels too hot against your wetness that it’s taking effect on you too. Your soft hand reaches for his hand that’s holding into your inner thigh, “What’s… wrong?”

“I want to taste what’s dripping from you here,” Kokushibo’s knuckles caresses your folds and gently prod your clit unconsciously.

Before you could answer, you felt his flat tongue lathering on your wetness back and forth. The tip of his tongue rubbed on your clit and licking on your slit—causing your legs to spread further apart. Your hands hold onto his head as Kokushibo let himself drown in your wetness, and your voice sounds high and lewd from the sensation.

Kokushibo’s mouth works with hunger and your arousal coating even his chin as he pushes his tongue inside you. He slurps loudly and sucked on the nub his mouth had found—causing your legs to tremble against his hold.

“Ahhh~!!” You cried out in pleasure as you tug on his hair, “Kokushibo~! Your tongue—haa~!!”

The way you pulled his hair is not having any effect on Kokushibo, it only made him groan against your clit, as his tongue penetrates your insides. He can feel the soft pleats of your insides squeezing around the wet muscle of his mouth.

The further his tongue reaches inside you, the closer you felt yourself convulsing. Your legs shake around his head and your body gave in to the newfound ecstasy. You came undone in his mouth and your insides wetter than ever.

Kokushibo gulped all the secretions left in his mouth and he stare down at your heavily breathing state. He presses his shaft on your abused clit and you flinch away in sensitiveness. He had to hold your hips still as he started penetrating your tight insides.

You whined at the sensation of getting stretched apart, he felt hard inside you, and it feels impossible to take all of him. The brush of his pulsating veins in your slick walls is making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“I can’t— ‘s too much.”

Kokushibo pulled your body up on his lap, to help you sink on him as he was just halfway in, “Don’t run away from me, _______.”

You felt his hands on your ass and your body swiftly pushed down to his length. You let out a cry of his name and felt a searing pain as you fully take him inside you. Tears freely fell from your eyes as you feel the pain—his length feels too hard and your insides still adjusting from his wide girth.

"Please..." You can feel the sting in your eyes as tears continue to trickle down and stain your cheeks, "Stop... Please, stop."

Unbeknownst to both of you, spots of blood from your torn hymen are freely dripping from your joined bodies together and staining the ground.

"I can't.” Kokushibo started to thrust, “This can't be over now, _______."

You cried out louder and had to bite on his shoulder to distract yourself from the pain. Your teeth sink into his pale skin and your fingertips scratch his back, as Kokushibo keeps your body moving on top of him.

Kokushibo groaned internally as he felt you bit on his skin… and he almost prayed to a god just to keep the mark that you made. But, it wasn’t possible, his healing ability already made your bite vanish.

“Kokushibo,” you sniffled on the crook of his neck.

“It will feel better, _______,” Kokushibo kisses your shoulder blade and continue to gently guide your hips in moving. He couldn’t focus on feeling the pleasure as you cry, but he knew that he couldn’t stay still as your insides grip on his length too hard.

Your insides adjusted fully as he keeps thrusting, soon enough, the pain you were feeling was replaced by a ticklish yet sensual sensation. You can feel that it became easier to take him in as you move above him, and your voice lets out erotic moans.

Kokushibo has his six eyes closed as he lets you move on your own, the pleasure in his body is getting stronger and stronger. His hands squeeze on your soft ass and his sharp nails unconsciously left scratch marks on your skin, due to his eagerness. He’s letting out deep groans and sighs as he lets himself be consumed by the pleasure.

You felt like a knot is getting twisted inside you and the more you move, the tighter it gets. “Kokushibo~ Hnngh!”

Kokushibo caresses your face after hearing his name, your face distorts beautifully for him as the pleasure intoxicates you. He wrapped one arm around your waist and move his hips, taking the lead with speed. He can feel your nipples brushing against his face as he bounces you on top of him.

Your hold on his shoulders tightens and it’s hard to keep yourself steady. You couldn’t think straight as the pleasure gets in your head. You felt your body giving up as another wave of surprise orgasm surged throughout your body.

Kokushibo felt your insides squeeze around him repeatedly—forcing him to pull out. He felt your body falls on him and your ragged breathing is apparent. He took in a deep breath, he had almost reached his high, and he intended to pursue it.

You felt being flipped to your back and Kokushibo from behind is pushing his shaft inside you again. A loud whine escaped your lips as you feel being full again, and he felt bigger in the new position. Your legs already shaking as soon as he started to thrust.

“Kokushibo~!! Unghh!!” Your hands gripping the grass and making marks on the ground as you take in his pounding. This time, he felt forceful and relentless—as if chasing something.

Kokushibo’s mind got clouded by the pleasure that he’s spitting out a proposal near your ear in between his moans, “Let’s live together, ________.” He moaned deliciously again, “Live together with me.”

Without thinking about it, “Yes! Kokushibo, yes~!!”

Maybe it was the pleasure you’re feeling that took your sense of logic away, but you know you won’t regret the choice you made.

Kokushibo dragged his hips once more before unloading thick strings of his warm cum and it painted your narrow insides white. All of his kept seeds bursting out inside you and making you full—literally overwhelming your womb.

You can still feel Kokushibo pumping inside you and your body could only take in all that he gave. Eyes rolling at the back of your head, hands gripping the ground, and your voice sounding lewd can be heard from a far distance.

Kokushibo stared at your limp state, while his desire is barely satiated. He took you in his arms and brushed away the strands of your hair from your face, “Take my blood and I’ll keep you, _______.”

You obliged. Finally, you have found someone who wanted you.

Before sunrise, you and Kokushibo are off to spend the rest of your demon life together. Leaving your shredded clothes on the ground and pieces of evidence of you losing your virginity. The marks on the ground and the spots of blood from where you were last night were founded by a man who’s out to fish in the river.

Since then, a legend of how you disappeared arises in your town based on the traces that you left. People believed that you were eaten by a demon as it was your fate for being unmarriable.

The legend of your disappearance was told to many young girls through generations and they feared having the same fate as you.

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Flock of Birds

Pairing: levi x gn! Reader

Summary: You’re injured, disoriented, and alone in the middle of the forest with your thoughts. The rest of the Levi squad is dead. You’re hoping death comes sooner rather than later, but luckily your Captain finds you in time.

Warnings: angst, descriptions of violence, reader hoping for death, happy ending.

**something to get me back into writing, and apparently symbolism is hard for me to write. Takes place during season 2 and reader is apart of his og squad.

Their relationship can be read as romantic or platonic, it’s not really specified.

The birds never looked so free. A small flock flew above you in the typical ‘v’ form. Sasha said they do that to keep track of each other. To keep each other safe while migrating and make sure no one gets left behind. Were they ducks? No, no, they had to be crows. Maybe they’re- who cares?

You’re mind was fuzzy.

Vision was blurry.

And of course it had to be raining.

But… the sun was out and the sky was clear.

Then why was water running down your face? The slow tickle of the liquid trailed down your face and down your jaw until it fell on your white pants.

Blood.

Oh. That explains it.

How long have you been out here? What time was it.. what day was it?

The ringing in your ear slowly dissipates and your vision starts to clear. You’re sitting down.

Why? Captain Levi gave you and the rest of his squad orders to stop the Female Titan. This isn’t making any sense.

Where was Petra? Eld?

God, your head hurts.

Maybe they found their flock of birds and flew to safety? But without you?

Nothing makes sense.

All you can see are trees, granted you can’t even move your head around fully. But, the Scouts are in titan territory, this was no time to be sitting.

You try to move your legs that sprawled in front of you, but the small movement makes you release a strangled cry.

Oh. It’s all coming back now.

Your squad, no, Levi’s squad… they’re all gone.

The female Titan elbowed you while going after the others. You must’ve hit the tree and only suffered a few broken bones before you went unconscious.

Perfect.

The sun was starting to get lower in the sky and you realize the scouts must’ve made their way back hours ago.

A small and bitter laugh escaped you. This is how you die? Alone and surrounded by the corpses of your comrades? What a sick world.

Maybe, just maybe if you close your eyes, you won’t wake up. The painful yearning for death in your sleep was no more than a miracle. And miracles don’t happen. Not in this life.

No, a Titan is bound to grab you at any moment, squeezing your body in its hand until your bones crack and blood is pouring out of your mouth. Death only comes once its teeth bite down on your skull.

That’s how you’re supposed to die.

Then why weren’t there any titans?

Not that you minded, but it was very peculiar. This was prime Titan country and you should’ve been dead before you’ve even woken up.

A faint noise catches your attention. That sounds like… odm gear.

With your rotten luck, they’ll fly past you, not noticing you’re still alive. Thin tears leaked from your dehydrated body. You’ll have to suffer a cold night by yourself, then get plucked off the ground by a Titan once dawn approaches. If you’re lucky, you’ll die during the night.

“Captain!”

A voice shouted out as the odm gear sounded a lot closer now. It was a female voice.

Was it Krista? No, her voice is too soft.

Sasha? No, it couldn’t be.

“Captain, they’re alive!”

Oh, it was Mikasa. She was cool.

Thumps and the sound of the twigs and leaves snapping as the two made their way over to you.

Which Captain was it?

Wait, wasn’t there only one Captain?

Yes, he wasn’t just your Captain, he was your squad leader.

Your head tilted to the side and through half-lidded eyes, you saw Captain Levi standing there in shock. Mikasa quickly rushes over to you and scans you for any lethal wounds.

“T-they hit their head pretty hard it looks like.” She says with tears brimming her eyes. Levi finally snaps out of it and remembers his authority.

“Scan the area for any Titans until I get them on one of the branches.” Levi crouches down in front of you as Mikasa leaves. “Hey, hey, can you hear me?”

His hands carefully grasp at your face to steady your head. “Y/l/n, I asked you a question.” Your eyes locked with his. The sharp grey eyes bore into yours just like so many other times, but this time you could tell there was a sense of longing and concern within them. Your hand reaches out to grasp the wings of freedom patch on the shoulder of his jacket.

That’s when your emotions took over. Tears leaked from your eyes and you gave out a cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Captain. We t-tried to stop her.”

The disappointment in yourself rang through your body. You were still alive. Everyone else was dead. So why you? You were the first one down and couldn’t even follow your captains orders.

“Shut the hell up.” Levi interrupts your thoughts.

“You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” He breathes out and rests his forehead on yours. “Thank god.”

More tears. “B-but the others-”

“We can mourn when we’re all safe. Right now, we have to get you out of here.”

Levi takes out a roll of bandages and starts to bind them against your head wound. “Don’t die on me yet, kid.”

“I’m only a few years younger than you.” You gave him a weak smile.

“Save your energy, brat.”

There’s the Captain you know.

Once he bandages your wounds, he sets his arms under you to carry you. You let out a small cry at the movement of your leg.

“Shit.” He mutters and moves to take off his cloak. “There’s nothing I can do for the pain. Just hold on until we can get to the wagons.”

“Okay.”

His thumb wipes away a few of your tears and he rips a strip off his cloak and rolls it up. “We can’t have that loud mouth of yours attracting more of those ugly bastards.” He hold it up to your mouth.

“Bite.”

The cloth is pressed between your teeth and acts as a bite guard.

You couldn’t help the muffled groans of pain as he lifted your body up. He tied more pieces of his cloak around you both to act as a harness so you were strapped to his back.

“You alright?” Levi asked once he stood up. He only got a muffled grunt in response.

Without another word, he took off into the trees.

“Mikasa, let’s go! We’re meeting up with the others.”

The other scout soon joined you two and she gave you a worried glance.

Your arms were limply resting around Levi’s neck as he moved and your head turns to the side.

Birds flew next to you.

“To keep each other safe.” Sasha’s voice rang out in your head. “When my dad was teaching me to hunt, I always wondered why birds flew like that, too.”

“Aw, so they’re looking out for each other?” You asked, splitting your slice of bread in half and handing it to her. “That’s cute.”

She eagerly took it, “Yeah! It’s to make sure no one gets left behind and makes communicating easier.”

Who knew one of Sasha’s old stories would play through your mind at a time like this.

Levi landed on his horse and was careful with you and his own injured leg. The forest was becoming smaller and you could see the walls in the distance.

You’re gonna be okay.

Levi’s hand gripped both of yours around his neck and he held the reigns in the other.

Sorry fate, you weren’t getting left behind this time. Maybe miracles do happen. You might have lost some along the way, but the birds must stick together, especially in this world.

———

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @sad-darksoul @cullenswife

(If you wanna be added or removed, lmk!!)

[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers Of Pandora ᝰ Day 2 - One Bed

Artists — Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya!reader

Lyrics — You and Neteyam spend the night together on an overnight hunting trip and while you’re trying to sleep the mighty warrior can’t keep his body under control

Music Advisory — nsfw content (18+), porn w/ little plot, aged!up Neteyam, suggestive/allusions to sex, best friends trope, one bed trope ᝰ this fic does contain aged!up character smut so if you don’t like that type of content please don’t interact and continue scrolling!!

Duration — 767 words

Index — pänutìng - promise • ftang - stop

Words From Artist — This is my first writing smut for Neteyam and it was fun writing it! Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

“Neteyam, move over. You’re all over me.” The agitation in your voice is clear while you try to scoot over, trying to give yourself more space so you can get comfortable and finally get some rest.

“If you haven’t noticed this bed wasn’t created for two people.” He replies with a groan while trying to keep his body from slipping off the edge of the bed.

“Fine, just turn on your side or something. It’ll give us a little more room.” You whisper through a yawn while flipping on your side, turning your back towards him and pulling the woven blanket that you and Neteyam are sharing over your body.

Neteyam has a feeling that this idea isn’t a good one but he wants to keep you happy and doesn’t want to put up a fight since it’s so late and you both are tired from the hunting trip today. “Uhm, okay.” He turns on his side, the side that’s facing your back, the side that gives him the perfect few of your beautiful ass and round hips. While Neteyam tries to focus on anything other than your body he notices you scooting back, making a low hiss fall from his lips. “W-Wait, y/n.” He says hesitantly while shifting his hips back, hoping you stay still.

“Stop poking me Neteyam, it’s too late at night to be playing around.” You wiggle around a little, trying to find the perfect position and get comfortable.

“I’m not, I pänutìng.” He breathes heavily while placing a hand on your hip, trying to calm your movements down. “ftang moving around so much, you’re making it worse.”

“Making what worse?” You ask in a confused tone, not understanding what Neteyam is talking about. Once you turn around to see face Neteyam you see his face all flushed, his normally blue cheeks gaining a purple hue, making you wonder what that could be about. “Neteyam, how many times do I have to ask you to stop-” You place your hand where you feel the poking in your back, wanting to grab whatever hard thing is giving you discomfort, but what you feel against your palm isn’t what you assumed it was going to be. When you realize it’s Neteyam’s hardened cock in your hand your eyes bulge open, not expecting to feel your best friend's length tonight.

At first you don’t know how to react to what’s going on but you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth spread through your core when it registers that you caused Neteyam to become erect. You’ve always had a crush on him but you never knew he felt the same, now you finally have your answer. Since his feelings are clear and you’ve always fantasized about pleasing Neteyam, why not take this opportunity and give him a nice little handjob and help him achieve the sexual release his body is clearly asking for.

“y/n…” He mutters out while looking down at your hand grasping his cock, feeling it throb the more he thinks about you touching him because he’s always wanted this moment to manifest he just didn’t think this is how it would happen. He doesn’t want to seem weird for enjoying this lovely accident that you both stumbled upon but he can’t help it. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t- you shouldn’t do this…”

“Why not? I just want to help out my best friend, it’s the least I can do after causing it.” Your fingers work their magic to untie the strings that hold his loincloth together and once they unravel you lay eyes on his cock, swollen and veiny with droplets of his pre-cum already making an appearance. Your thumb gently swipes over his leaking tip, teasing his slit before moving your hand downward and slowly stroking his cock, already eliciting sweet groans to fall from his lips. “Just relax, Neteyam. I’ll take care of you.” You whisper softly in his ear before gliding your tongue around the shell of his ear and making your way down his neck and to his jaw, covering each inch of skin you touch in kisses.

In a million eclipses the mighty warrior never thought he would see the day where Eywa would grant his wish to share an intimate moment with you but here you are, giving him a handjob and him crumbling in your hands and succumbing to your pleasures. Now he’s thankful that his father made him come on this overnight hunting trip, this is so much better than being alone in his mauri and jerking off to the thought of you.

Fanbase — @eme1hyst @o-kingston @erenjaegerwifee @Kaydoux @biaaaaaaaa1 @hikotaru @thisaintredwine @lexieeeeeeeei @that-gurl25 @Peanut713521 @anemonelovesfiction @32saucy-minx @rae @bigdikzaddy @laylasbunbunny @merlinbtch @morisim @btsiguess-kpop @sussybaka10 @galactict3a @shima @eyrina-avatar @headsincloud9 @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @yetanotherattemptatanaccount @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @neteyamyawne @neteyamsblog @deadgirlrin

— all rights reserved © INLOVEWITHPANDORA 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[deceitfuldevout]

Until Death (Part 2)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +2,021

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Branding, Forced breeding, Gun violence, Mild gore, Hints of misogyny.

Author's Note(s): I know this is over the top. I am on my period and only seek *violence*.

During the next few months, it had only worsened. Rafe was starting to feel comfortable around you now that his father isn’t keeping tabs. It was about time you had some marital training. From now on, no more hanging around those Pogue friends of yours. It was about time you started acting like a part of higher society. He won’t have you embarrassing him.

He’s let you get away with more than enough snarky remarks, and if you kept that stubborn attitude there will be consequences. Those days of rebellion are over now. He came up with the perfect routine to follow. As head of the house, Rafe expects certain things from you. To serve and obey like a good wife should.  

It took some time and effort but eventually you learned. Whatever it takes to ease that temper of his. You remember the first few weeks of training. When Rafe would chase you down the halls of the manor with a riding crop in hand. He wouldn’t hesitate to bend you over his lap if needed. He absolutely loved to play ‘cat and mouse’, taunting his prey before going in for the kill.

Rafe took pleasure in watching that flicker of hope burn out. When he would arrive home from a long day of work, he wants you waiting patiently at the door. As soon as he steps in you get to work, greeting him when he enters. You place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Rafe isn’t satisfied by your lack of effort. He doesn’t try hiding the obvious frown, “Sweetheart,” his voice is stern, “That’s not what I taught you,” he’s waiting for you to get it right.

When you lean in again, he wraps his arms around your waist. Rafe takes the opportunity to lift you a few inches from the ground. He places you back down with his hands still cupping your rear. He grips and squeezes at the flesh before delivering a harsh smack. Then Rafe finally let’s go. Now sporting a cocky grin on his face, “I’m starving, what’s for dinner?” he can afford a private chef but prefers a home cooked meal instead. It was his way of keeping you busy at home. He loves watching you on camera playing housewife.  

You walk with him the dining room where dinner awaits. It instantly improves his mood. Dinner was quiet. Mainly because Rafe did most of the talking. He would start with how his day was, then extensive detail of how his office life was, followed by how happy he was to be back home. You’ve already tuned him out. It took a while to realize he’d been calling your name.

By the time you’ve realized it he’s already lost his temper. He slams the dinner table hard enough to break out of that daydream you were currently in. You look up from your plate to find a very pissed off Rafe. You let out a string of apologies that are quickly shut down by him, “Don’t, not another word out of your mouth until we’re finished,” A quiet Rafe is never a good thing.  

Although you were exhausted from the multiple tasks today, you wanted Rafe to hear you out. So, you try to make up for it the only way you know how. Dressed in a seductive camisole that was hiding a lacy two-piece. As soon as Rafe spots you he’s at a loss for words. This time it was different, you decided to take charge by straddling his waist. You brought his hands to your hips before fastening your pace. Rafe stares back with hooded lids. There’s a look of hunger in his eyes. That’s exactly where you need him. Desperate and wanting.

He lifts his head to catch a breast, teasing the other with his free hand. You moan with pleasure, raising your hips faster to catch the rising orgasm. Rafe could feel you were close. His hand dips down to find that bundle of nerves. He gives it a few rubs before tugging at it. You instantly melt into a puddle of pleasure. Your head falls back as you felt the wave of pleasure hit. After coming down from your high that’s when you realize the slick between your legs. Rafe came, hard.

You were stuffed to the brim with his spunk. He held you close, gently turning the both of you onto the bed. Your head now pressed against his chest. Rafe doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t want to. He seemed much more relaxed than earlier. That when you decide now would be a good time to tell him, “Rafe…" you start to plea your case, “I miss my parents,” you just wanted some space. It was something he’d been dreading of since the beginning. Rafe knew very well you were a free spirit. It would take some time to break that out of you. He needed to make you more reliant on him. So, for the past few months he’d been tampering with your birth control.

Yet no news of a pregnancy was made. He assumes it was from stress. What was stressful he hadn’t a clue. He gave you everything. What more could you possibly want? He huffs, “Fine,” grabbing your jaw to face him, “But I’m coming along,” he’s not going to risk you falling out of line. The last thing he needs is for you to embarrass him. Tears of joy stream down as you kiss him repeatedly. He couldn’t hide the grin on his face. Not when his adorable wife was so doting over him.  

As each day passed, Rafe began to grow weary. He was nervous taking you out for the first time. His suspicions only grew when you start to pack a few bags. To his knowledge this was supposed to be a short trip. He chose the very day you were going to leave to start an argument. He'll be damned if he's sending his wife back to the cut. What if you ran away? Or worse, you running away with some Pogue. He'd grown suspicious for a while now.

It was the day of your trip. After waiting for Rafe downstairs, you try searching for his whereabouts. To your surprise, he was still sat at his desk. You couldn't believe it. He hadn't even bothered to pack his bags. Hell, he even had the gall to be upset. This wasn't fair, you were the one who was supposed to be in a bad mood.

Rafe starts, "Where is it?" he states. You roll your eyes, "Where is what Rafe?" as soon as he stands you step back. Already prepared for the worst as your hands fly in front, "Rafe..." tears begin to brim. You blink them away. It''s not like they would help. You sigh, "Where is what--" that's when he pounces, Rafe grabs you by the arm and pulls you to his desk.

He slams you against it with a 'thud'. All the air escapes your lungs. At that moment you start to cry harder. He growls in your face, "Where the fuck is it?!" Rafe had grown suspicious when you stopped wearing your wedding ring. He wants everyone to know you're off limits. You try to catch your breath, still attempting to muster up some words, “It doesn’t fit me anymore…”

“Bullshit,” "N-no! I swear! It doesn't fit me!" you're a sputtering mess. Tears and spit ran down your face. Rafe doesn't buy the act, not one bit. He wants you to prove to him your loyalty. He flips you over, pulling up your skirt before yanking down the garment. He aims his leaking tip against your folds. He fucks you against his desk, grunting into your ear a string of curse words and threats. Rafe reaches for something next to him, “You won’t wear the ring? Fine,” he picks up a wax stamp, still warm from earlier.

Still hot to the touch. Rafe presses his entire bodyweight on top of yours to prevent you from escaping. He traps your hand under his, isolating your ring finger from the rest. That's when you begin to panic, “Rafe! Rafe let go! Let go of my—“ You spot the tool in his hand. Now you were certain that he intends to burn you with it.

You thrash against his larger body, trying your best then break free form the grip he has on you. He takes the heated brand, hovering right above your digit. He then presses it tightly against your finger, ignoring the wail of agony escaping your lips. The smell of burning flesh consumes the room. A part of you wants to hurl from the stench alone.

When he pulls it away you cry harder. Rafe is in awe as he stares back at his initials now permanently burned into your finger. Fuck, he's never been more turned on in his life. Rafe thrusts his hips at a faster pace. He came with a roar, emptying a load deep inside. That's when he pulls something from his pocket. Your wedding ring. Rafe presses his lips against your ear and whispers, "Here, you won't be needing this," he drags the ring down your abdomen and past your mound. He coats the ring with your arousal before pushing it inside.

His fingers reach as far as they can go. Your breath hitches, feeling his thick digits stretching you. A whine escapes your lips. You clung to the desk for dear life. Rafe leans back in his chair, lighting up a cigarette to get a good view of his girl. He feet give your legs a light kick to part them. His cock twitches at the sight of his spunk leaving your womb. He watches as you attempt to push the ring out, evening offering to help get it out.

If the treatment wasn't humiliating enough, he would always find a way to make it worse. You turn around, now leaning against the desk with parted legs. His hands reach in between your legs. As one of them pushes a few fingers inside, the other toys with your clit. Rafe retrieves it with that same triumphant look after getting what he wants. This was the final straw. Your finger stung, you were tired and in unimaginable pain. Yet still, that spark of anger over came all senses, "Keep it, I want a divorce," with that you left his office.

You could hear Rafe's steps approaching and make a run for it. You beat him to the nearest guest room, locking the door behind. Rafe continuously slams at the door, "Don't even think about it! You're not leaving me! Do you hear me?!" Rafe screams your name at the top of his lungs. It startles you. When he starts to kick the door that's when you attempt to hide. Quickly finding a place under a bed. After a while the sound of Rafe's voice starts to die out. Hopefully his anger would subside, and this would all be over with. But all he could think of was how to get through this door.

A wave of relief is shortly lived. Until the sound of a gun firing is heard on the other side. Rafe shoots the door a few times until the lock finally breaks. You muffle a sob when you spot his feet standing right in front of the hiding spot. He calmly calls for your name, "Baby...please come out..." his voice is calm, too calm, "Don't make this harder for us," as if it would help. What other choice did you have?

You held out a hand. Rafe bends down to pull you out from underneath. He held you tightly, as if you'd disappear at any moment. He never sounded so desperate in his life, "You're not walking out on me," his grip tightens, "You will never leave me, do you understand?" he expects you to answer. Of course, you caved in, "I--I understand..." a stray tear escapes. Rafe's expression quickly changes. He swipes it away with the back of his thumb, "I love you, you know that, right?" his voice breaks, yet there are no tears.

That day you had to explain to your parents that you'd fallen ill. But don't worry, Rafe would take care of you. Through sickness and in health as promised.

[shadowdarlings]

Rain and Redemption

Tamlin x Reader

Synopsis : After fleeing your home in the Court of Nightmares you seek refuge in the wild and unattended lands of the Spring Court. You are certain that you will remain unnoticed and can finally begin living a free life. After a year alone in the feral woods of Spring you stumble upon a most surprising beast, one who had been rumored lost forever.

Pairings : TamlinxReader

a/n : this one is for my tamlin girlies! i’m so excited to write this piece and i hope you guys enjoy. don’t get me wrong i love all my other acotar men but he’s been lingering in my mind lately. slight rhys slander but nothing that isn’t true <3 (i still love him pls do not demolish me in the comments)

Warnings : mentions of cruelty and torture, suggestiveness, tamlin being possessive (but in a good way)

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The forest crawled with many creatures. Some were benevolent while others sought flesh and blood. A year in the Spring woodlands had taught you much; survival chiefly, but it had also shown you strength from within that you had not known was there. The wherewithal to remain largely unscathed in such a dangerous environment was not cheap. Yet the perils of the forest did not compare to the cruelty of your home. You’d fled from the Court of Nightmares just over a year ago and headed straight for the Spring Court. Your plan to escape had been neatly designed. After the war with Hybern you knew that the southern territory was largely abandoned by its High Lord and sneaking into its territories would be your best bet at remaining hidden from your family and from the High Lord that ruled over them.

Over the years you had grown to detest the High Lord of the Night Court. His backwards notions of ruling fairly would have been laughable if they had not cost you so much. His love for the City of Starlight had left you and your people completely disregarded. Mostly left to manage yourselves, cruelty and violence soaked into the hearts of those who resided within the mountain. The reputation of your court was enough for Rhysand to deem all of you little more than the dirt under his finely crafted boots. After 50 years of growing up in such circumstances you’d had enough. Perhaps one day you’d return to uplift your people, to tell the pompous Lord exactly what his arrogance and misplaced judgment had cost you all. For now, you sat upon a moss covered log and removed your leather pack.

It had been a long day of traveling. Recent naga attacks had driven you from your previous shelter and further into the dense woods. The afternoon sun was quickly setting and you’d need to find new lodging before it slipped beneath the horizon. Taking account of your provisions, you deemed it safe enough to take a large swig from the water canteen stored in your pouch. After twisting the cap back on tightly, you shrugged on your pack and set off again to find a place to sleep.

It did not take long until you found a cave hidden amongst the brush and trees. Pulling back a branch you entered and surveyed the dimly lit cavern. Aside from a few discarded animal bones it seemed largely unoccupied. Whomever had been here before was long gone by your observation. Deeming it fit for the night you began preparing to settle and sleep. The latter caught up to you before you knew it, the fatigue of traveling getting the better of you. You slept hard and heavy until a crunch from just outside the cave jolted you awake. Flinging your eyes open you scanned the entrance to find a hulking shadow of a creature peering in. There was not enough light to reveal the nature of this being, as you had not started a fire in an effort to remain unseen. The giant figure took a step forward and you slammed your eyes shut, heart racing. Slowly and silently you reached for the dagger strapped to your hip but did not unsheathe it yet. Taking slow steadying breaths you monitored the creatures movements with only your sense of hearing. It seemed to take two tight circles and flop onto the ground, as if it too were exhausted. Daring to peek one eye open you confirmed your suspicions and saw the shadow of the massive thing taking deep, slumberous breaths as if it had paid you no mind whatsoever. Loosing out a silent sigh you thanked the mother for whatever amnesty she had granted until your lids grew heavy once more and sleep reclaimed you wholly.

Your eyes did not reopen until dawn cracked through the leaves and streamed into the cave. You moved a hand to shade your eyes from the light and slowly blinked them open. It was then you remembered you had not slept alone last night. Your gaze landed onto what seemed to be an oversized wolf curled up on the rock floor not three feet away from you. Your heart began its quickened pace once more as you silently turned away from it to sling your pack across your head and shoulder. Standing as quietly as you could you braced yourself to turn back around and make your escape. Yet when you faced the creature once more it was already on four giant paws, its eyes locked onto you. You sucked in a silent scream and took a step backwards against the wall of the cave, flattening your palms along the cool rock. Your eyes had locked onto a fierce pair of green ones that seemed to bore into your very soul. Quickly remembering what you had learned you averted your eyes and looked down at the ground. Ever so slowly you shrank down the wall until you had come into a full crouch. You had long since figured out that if you could not best something it was better to make yourself small and hope it would deem you unworthy of its time.

Yet the wolf took a step forward, and then another. Out of your peripheral vision you could tell it was lowering its massive head towards you. It took two long inhales then nudged forward once more. You knew it was foolish but you couldn’t help your curiosity as you lifted your head to gaze at the beast once more. Its emerald eyes were locked onto yours, almost as if it were a conscious being. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. It shifted once more, this time onto its hind legs to sit and then again to lay its enormous body down in front of you. Then as if trying to convey its docile nature the wolf let out a quiet whine. You weren’t entirely sure this was all real. It must have devoured you whole and you were now in the midst of some delusion brought on by death. Yet your heart continued to beat rapidly and your lungs still drew in panicked breaths. The wolf had not broken its eye contact and now looked up at you from its lying position.

Deeming your situation already lethal you cast your better judgment to the wind and let out a whisper. “Hello,” you said to the beast. It cocked its head slightly as if in greeting and curiosity. “I’m sorry I invaded your cave,” you said trying to tame the shaking in your voice, “I didn’t know it was occupied.” The wolf lifted its head ever so slightly and parted its giant mouth to reveal dagger like canines. “You invaded more than my cave, little nightingale,” it rumbled in a voice so deep it rattled your bones.

You were sure now that you were hallucinating. Your face was the picture of pure shock as you beheld the speaking creature. You sputtered and stammered, reaching for something to say. “You speak?” was all you could squeak out. The wolf remained lying down but lifted its head an inch further. “Yes,” it replied in that thick tenor. You managed the courage to straighten slightly and surveyed its lethal figure. The matted coat, the pronged horns that crowned its head, the striking green eyes that observed you in turn. It clicked just then. “You’re Tamlin,” you said, not exactly a question. The wolf blinked once, twice. “Yes,” he replied once more. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the tales of a fallen High Lord who had bound himself to his beast form and hidden away in the woods. You’d just never expected to behold him, let alone engage in conversation with him.

You stumbled for your words again but managed to get out, “I- I’m sorry for intruding. On your cave and your lands. I needed…” Your ability to articulate a sentence evaded you entirely as you beheld him. “It is no matter to me,” he spoke, “not anymore.” There was a deep sadness that dripped off his words and you felt a tear in your chest. Without your permission, your body moved your hand up and onto Tamlin’s fur coated head. Your fingers threaded into the soft fleece and rested there for a moment. He stayed completely still. It took a few heartbeats to realize what you had done, what you were still doing. You retracted your hand, choking out an apology. Tamlin did not deign to respond. Instead he lowered his head back down and this time laid it right into your lap.

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He must be out of his mind, he thought. Yet he could not tear himself away from your gentle touch as you once again began your exploration of his fur. How long had it been since he had been touched? How long had it been since he had even seen another conscious life form? He breathed in your scent, that of lilies and hyacinths. It was polluted with the smell of the forest and survival. He had noted your thin figure before closing his eyes and relishing your touch. He noticed the dirty clothes, the grime under your nails, and the tangles in your hair that made you look wild and untamed. He pondered your presence in the Spring Court as you moved your hand to caress the other side of his head. He knew he should kill you. What other reason would a Night Court citizen be doing in his lands other than to spy and destroy him further. The thought had him opening his eyes once more, but he did not move from under your touch. “Why, little nightingale, have you come to my lands?” he grumbled softly. The sigh that escaped your lips was a heavenly sound. “I could not stand another minute in that court,” you responded to him continuing your exploration across his fur. He contemplated your words before prodding again, “But why come here of all places?” He watched you consider his question from his position on your lap until you let out a small laugh and said, “It’s the only place where I felt I would be safe.”

Something that had been long asleep in him awoke at your response. Here? Safe? With him? After everything that had happened in the last 53 years under Amarantha’s reign, the war with Hybern, and destruction of his court he could not fathom that anyone in all of Prythian could possibly feel safe here. “These woodlands are not safe, nightingale,” he said. You snorted in response to his implication. “I don’t know, my Lord, I’ve faired quite well this past year. Still all in one piece, see?” You removed your hand from his fur to gesture to your own figure. He immediately missed the feeling of your touch. It took a great deal of restraint not to nuzzle your hand back to its original place on him.

Instead he rose from your lap and stood to his full height, his head barely grazing the top of the cavern ceiling. You rose with him wringing your hands at his size. “You’re not safe here,” he repeated, “come.”

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A command. One that reverberated through you to your very core. You did not hesitate to follow him out of the cave and into a clearing beyond the brush. “Climb up,” he instructed. You paused only a moment until you realized he meant for you to ride atop his back. He lowered himself ever so slightly as you hiked yourself into his massive wolf form. “Hold on, little nightingale,” he commanded once more before beginning a slow trot away from your shared cave.

The trek had been mostly contended silence. The two of you only spoke in question and response when the curiosity became too much.

“Why did you leave home?” he asked.

“I grew wary of the cruelty of home and the misjudgments of my High Lord,” you answered.

“Why have you disappeared for so long?” you asked.

“I am not fit to be a ruler at present,” he responded.

The hike had been a few hours long until you broke from the cover of the forest into an expansive clearing with endless rolling hills. The grasses had overgrown and if you hadn’t been astride on his back your figure would surely disappear into the thickets. He continued his pace as he came upon a behemoth of a building. Its size was dazzling but its condition was ruinous. Vines had almost completely overtaken the walls, creeping into shattered windows. The gardens surrounding the manor were in complete disarray, growing this way and that. He stepped over the overgrowth with his giant paws and took you up a grand staircase leading to two massive wooden doors. Gently he nudged them open with his snout and stepped foot in the place he once called home.

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He didn’t know exactly how long it had been since he had been to the manor. Before this morning he’d had no intentions of returning any time soon. He was not worthy to reside here, not worthy to call himself High Lord. The ruin he had left it in had his ego twisting from embarrassment, but he had to get her to safety. He did not know where the urge had come from, did not understand his draw to this intruder. It had been a long time since he’d had a task, a purpose. While the feeling was still foreign it was anything but unwelcome. He lowered himself once more once the two of you were safely inside and relished once more the feeling of your touch before you slid off his back and onto the marble entryway flooring. Tamlin observed as you marveled at the interior. Your eyes ravenous, soaking up every inch of this new environment. “It’s horrendous, I know,” he spoke lowly, “but you will be safe here. Safer than in those woods by yourself.” You turned your too thin figure toward him and spoke, “It’s marvelous.” He pushed down the small hint of excitement at your words and simply said “You can wash up and change clothes in the third room to the left past the dining room. I will find something to eat for the night.” With that, he turned and stepped outside the manor once more with a new task in his mind.

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You followed his instruction, finding a room that was mostly untouched by claw marks and destruction. Although dust had settled upon almost every surface, it was nice to be sheltered by four walls again. The room you entered was clearly meant for visiting courtiers, with a four poster bed, a generous armoire, a tall looking glass, and connected was a spacious bathing room. The stale air in the room was unfamiliar as you had grown accustomed to fresh air and gentle spring breezes. Your first order of business was to pry open the ornate window across the room. Your second order of business was to strip completely nude and fill the giant tub with enough water to wash a bear. The spout shot out a few violent buckets of water before finally clearing the air from its pipes and finding a steady stream. As the tub filled you nosed into the cabinets to find a few bottles of soap and oils. Sure they were a few years old, but it was better than lakes and creek water. You savored the warmth of your bath as it relaxed tense muscles and lulled you into bliss. It was only when the water grew chilled that you pulled yourself out and searched for any clothing to don before the High Lord returned from his hunt. You’d found little in terms of prudence but the silk nightdress would work for the evening. It had been a long time since you’d thought about such courtly things as how much skin was showing. Growing bored in the chamber waiting for Tamlin you walked into the main hall and began exploring.

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He strode into the manor as silently as he could. Tamlin held the dead deer in his lethal jaws and gently set it on the black and white marble before shifting into his fae form. It felt unfamiliar to stand on two legs instead of four. His shrugged off his discomfort and headed straight for his abandoned quarters to find something to dress in. The last thing he needed was you stumbling upon his naked, dirt covered figure. Tamlin made quick work of putting on bland pants and a light tunic. He didn’t even bother buttoning it completely before making his way to the room he’d directed you towards. He knocked once at your door and heard nothing. He started to call out your name then quickly realized you had not yet given it to him. Knocking once more he paused, listening for a sign of you behind the door. More silence. He pushed open the door and saw that you were not there. After looking in the bathing room to find it empty as well his heart began to quicken. It was happening again. How could he have been such a fool? Of course you wouldn’t want to stay here. Who would? His estate was in complete shambles and he himself was no better. His breathing was erratic, his chest pumping up and down as he began his downward spiral. Then he heard a sound. His head snapped toward the door as he heard a melancholy music coming from elsewhere in the manor. He followed the melody to where he found you sitting in front of the grand pianoforte. The keys were out of tune, but the quiet song was still lovely. He could do nothing but stand and stare in utter shock that not only had you stayed, but you were freshly dressed in Spring Court attire and playing music in his home. He watched as your hands traveled gracefully upon the ivories. The sound of your song was like a breath of life into the tomb of the manor. His state of silent admiration was only interrupted by the end of your song. You let out a content sigh and rose from the bench, turning and meeting his eyes.

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The sight of him. You had not yet known the High Lord of Spring in his fae form. He was utterly gorgeous. Your eyes devoured him as if they were starved. His tunic was unbuttoned and revealed a generous portion of his muscled chest. It was then you remembered the thin nightgown you had thoughtlessly wrapped yourself in. You knew he was fae, but his wolf form had almost made you forget that he was also a male. A beautiful, stunning male. You quickly tore your eyes from him and found a spot on the ground to study as you greeted him, “My Lord.” He let out a breath as if he’d been holding it, “My Lady.” Your eyes flicked up to his at that. A faint smile ghosted his lips and his face was the picture of relief. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I got bored waiting for your return.” He let out a quiet laugh and took a few steps to approach you. “That’s quite alright, little nightingale, I’m just happy to see that you’re still here.” It was your turn to laugh. What a ridiculous comment! Through a snort you said, “Where else would I go?” His smile grew and he offered you his hand. “Good point. I found us something to eat. Care to join me?” You stepped forward to meet him, his towering figure and scent overwhelming your senses. Yet you took his hand and returned the smile, gazing up at him. “I would love nothing more.”

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.05.24)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Never sent a request before, FORGIVE ME

But .. I noticed that Scott Pilgrim is on your list now I would kill for some Stephen Stills smut,,

Stephen Stills x male reader

Headcanons

Chubby Stephen Stills lives forever in my mind.

It takes a while to Stephen to accept his own sexuality, and even longer to act on it. His friend group probably drags him along to a club of some kind, as they all want to let lose and get him out of his comfort zone.

Stephen finds himself in a corner with some kind of alcoholic drink, trying to avoid the crowds, and trying not to stare at the many attractive guys walking around. He feels extremely out of place with his denim pants, flannel shirts and thicker body.

That’s what ends up catching your attention though, he doesn’t try to appear more than he is, and isn’t showing off. So, after telling your friends you’d be right back, you saunter over to the guitarist.

Stephen almost thinks he’s imagining things when you slide up beside him, leaning against the wall with a handsome grin on your face, your clothes sitting perfectly on your body, and your hair styled in a way that only makes you more attractive.

He wouldn’t believe it when you claim he’s attractive and that’s why you are flirting with him, as he’s probably used to people making jokes on his appearance.

Imagine Stephens surprise when you pull grab his hand and pull him out onto the dancefloor, arms winding around his neck to give you better leverage to grind up on him. Stephen’s face goes bright red, and he almost drops his mostly empty drink, his free hand gripping your hip as you move against him in those sinful movements.

He swears he can hear Wallace wolf whistle somewhere in the background through the music that plays over the speakers, especially when you press right up against Stephen and bury your face into his neck.

A shaky breath leaves him as you start nipping at his neck, pressing the flat of your tongue against the skin there and dragging it over the stubble running down his neck. Stephen’s head falls back with a soft moan, a noise you are unable to hear over the music, but you can feel it against your lips.

At some point he loses what’s left of his drink, but at this point Stephen can’t find it in himself to care as he’s groping at your waist, pulling your hips against his own, erections grinding together and making him shiver and gasp.

Hes lightheaded from the blood rushing to his head, both of them, that is, as Stephen has never found himself so hard and unsure of himself. He stumbles as you suddenly pull back, grabbing his hands to lead him through the large crowd of people.

All Stephen can do is stumble after you as you lead him somewhere, down a hallway and around a corner, and in through a normal looking door. A bathroom, one of the employees that people shouldn’t know the location of, but you had worked part time at the club at some point, so you knew the way around.

Few words have actually passed between the two of you before your kissing him, hands buried in his ruffled brown hair, his stubble rubbing the skin of your face raw as his hands finds themselves on your torso, touching and feeling your body through your clothes.

His kisses aren’t the most experienced, and maybe it comes from the fact that this is completely new territory to him, to do this with a man, that is. But he makes up for it through his enthusiasm, and the soft noises he lets pass from his mouth to yours only adds onto your enjoyment.

Its hard not to smirk at how desperate Stephen appears, his hips rolling on his own against yours, his heart racing in his chest and face hot and flushed.

When you finally reach down to palm at his crotch, a louder gasped noise leaves him, as his hips jolt forwards, trying to buck into your touch, searching for the contact he craves so much.

Stephen stumbles as you pull away and push him towards the toilet, your hands working expertly as you undo his belt and pull his cock free before he’s sat down. He whimpers softly as his hard length twitches, precum beading at the red tip as his hands grip your sides, his eyes looking up at you with the hungriest expression a man has ever given you.

You press a kiss to his lips to distract him as you kick off your shoes and pants, leaving on your socks, since its still a public-ish bathroom, your hands finding a pack of lube in your jacket pocket before the jacket too Is thrown to the floor.

A shaky curse leaves his lips as you scramble into his lap as well as you can in your current location, your fingers easily finding your hole and opening yourself up in practiced ease, your hard cock pressing against Stephens soft middle.

It doesn’t take long to open yourself up, and using the excess lube, you lather up his aching cock, causing his eyes to roll and his jaw to drop in a silent moan, more precum gathering on his tip and slicking up his length.

You can’t help but mutter soft praise to him as you lower yourself onto him, his cock filling you up as you both moan at the feeling, Stephens noises shakier than your own as his grip on your hips grow tighter.

He ends up kissing you desperately as you start riding him, the kiss wet and uneven as he can’t seem to fully focus because of your fluttering hole around him, your cock dragging stains against the fabric of his shirt as you bounce at a steady pace.

It takes some maneuvering for Stephen to strike your prostate, but when he does, he seems to take to it like a fish to water, bucking his hips up into you and striking that bundle of nerves every time he bottoms out inside you.

The fabric of his pants feels rough against your ass as he starts pulling you down into his bucks, Stephen ducking down to start biting and sucking on your neck as you grasp at his shoulders and arms, squeezing the fat and muscle under your fingers.

His moans evolve into rougher growls and groans as he grows closer to the edge, Stephens eyes fluttering shut as his jaw clenches, his abdomen tingling and balls drawing up as that familiar feeling rushes through his bloodstream.

Stephen leans back against the toilet as he bucks his hips up one last time, head falling back onto the water tank with a thunk as his soft stubbled neck is almost offered to you, a drawn out groan leaving his clenched teeth as he spills deep inside you.

With his throat so exposed, its impossible to not lean down and sink your teeth into it, sucking another hickey as you clench around him and reach down a hand to stroke yourself to completion. You are nice enough not to spill all over his shirt, instead catching it in your palm as you cum, your palm painted white.

Stephen shudders for a while, catching his breath and collecting his thoughts again before he can look at you, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You just grin and kiss him, softly this time, before getting up and cleaning up as well as you are able.

His knees are wobbly as he gets up, but he follows after you dutifully when you grab his hand, pulling him back into the crowd and towards your friends, who have apparently met up with Stephen’s friend group.

He must look as well fucked as he feels, as all of his friends start hollering and whooping, a knowing glint in Wallace’s eyes as he knows exactly what you guys were doing. Stephen finds himself blushing even more, but he doesn’t say anything about it, still feeling unsure on his feet.

You end up telling him you like him quite a lot, and that you wanna go on a date with him at some point. And Stephen, being just as smitten, is quick to agree. You guys share numbers and other contact information, and as the night comes to an end you make sure to kiss him within an inch of his life, ignoring the wolf whistles and cheers from your friends.